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BUTTERFLY'S 
FLIGHTS. 


BY 

THE   AUTHOR   OF 

THE    "WIN   AND    WEAR"    SBR1E'"«. 


MONTREAL. 


SAINT    PAUL 
L>.  D.   MERRILL   COMPANY 


Entehed,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

ROBERT  CARTER  AND  BROTHERS, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court    >f  the  United 
States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


CONTENTS. 


f  &.QB 

I. — me.  gliddon's  stories  ....      5 

II. — WHAT   GUY   AND    BUTTERFLY   SAW.  26 

III. — BUTTERFLY   AT   SEA 46 

IV.— SAILING  THROUGH   LAKE   ONTARIO.  66 

V. — NIGHT   ON  BOARD   THE   BOAT    .      .  91 

VI. — THE   WOLF   STORY 109 

VII. — RIVER   ST.   LAWRENCE        ....  127 

VIII. — GOING   THROUGH   THE   RAPIDS  .      .  147 

IX. — COMING  INTO   PORT 167 

X. — LETTERS 187 

XL — HAL  ACTS  AS  CHAPERON   .   .   .  202 

XH. — GOOD-BY 223 


Order  of  tlae  Volumes. 


1. — Butterfly  at  Mount  Mansfield. 

2. — Butterfly  at  Saratoga. 

3. — Butterfly  at  Niagara. 

4. — Butterfly's  Trip  to  Montreal. 

5. — Butterfly  at  the  Sea-side. 

6. — Butterfly  in  Philadelphia. 


TRIP  TO   MONTREAL. 


I. 

MR.    GLIDDON'S   STORIES. 

jROM  Niagara  to  Lewiston  is  only 
seven  miles.  Butterfly  and  Guy 
had  hardly  time  to  think  them- 
selves in  the  cars,  and  realize  that 
they  had  commenced  a  trip  of  four  hun- 
dred and  forty  miles,  when  the  train 
began  to  slacken,  Aunt  Matilda  to  pick  up 
her  bundle,  Aunt  Bessie  to  tie  her  bonnet- 
strings,  Guy's  mother  to  say  "  Guy !" 
which  meant,  as  the  boy  well  knew,  "Be 
attentive  and  on  the  alert  now,  my  son," 

and  there  they  were  in  Lewiston. 

(5) 


Trip  to  Montreal. 


You  may  think  I  do  not  go  very 
straight  forward,  when,  after  telling  yon 
this,  I  begin  to  give  you  the  reason  why 
the  car-ride  had  been  so  short ;  but,  as 
this  commences  a  new  volume,  I  do  so 
to  be  sure  you  remember  who  make  our 
travelling  party.  The  reason  was,  be- 
cause the  English  lady  and  gentleman, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gliddon,  were  on  board, 
and  as  soon  as  the  farewells  were  spoken 
between  Guy,  Butterfly,  and  their  little 
friends,  Mr.  Gliddon  had  called  the 
children  to  him  and  said  : 

"  I  have  been  story-gathering  since  I 
saw  you.  I  want  you  to  hear  what  I 
have  found.  Come  now,  and  sit  close  by 
me,  while  I  talk.  My  voice  is  pretty 
strong,  but  now  and  then  the  iron  horse 
can  neigh  louder," 


Mr.  Gliddon  s  Stories. 


Guy  and  Butterfly,  always  interested 
when  a  story  was  to  be  told,  were  not 
long  in  taking  their  seats  just  in  front  of 
Mr.  Gliddon ;  the  conductor,  an  obliging 
man,  very  kindly  turning  the  seat  over  for 
them. 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  said  Mr.  Gliddon, 
smiling. 

"  That  is  just  the  way  we  3hildren 
begin,"  interrupted  Guy.  "How  came 
you  to  think  of  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  was  a  boy  once,  though  you 
might  not  think  it,"  said  the  big  man. 
"And  I  can  remember  how  nice  it  was 
to  have  a  little  uncertainty  about  the 
time  of  my  story ;  besides,  I  have  ano- 
ther reason.  What  I  am  going  to  tell 
happened   after   there  had   been    a  war 


8  Trip  to  3 font  real. 


between  two  countries  that  were  cousins,  it 
not  a  little  nearer." 

"  Oh,  I  understand,"  said  Guy.  "  Cousin 
John  and  Cousin  Jonathan." 

"Who  are  they?"  asked  Butterfly. 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ?  I  thought 
everybody  did."  And  Guy  looked  at 
Butterfly  in  much  amazement. 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  said  truthful  Butterfly, 
blushing,  but  not  in  the  least  inclined  to 
equivocate. 

"Then  I  must  tell  you.  Cousin  John 
is  John  Bull,  alias  England,  and  Cousin 
Jonathan  is  the  great  United  States  of 
America." 

"Little  England  and  great  America. 
That  will  do  to  begin  with.  Now  let  us 
go  on.  Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a 
misunderstanding,  and  they  foolishly  tried 


Mr.  Gliddons  Stories.  9 


to  settle  the  difficulty  by  going  to  war. 
The  battles  were  fought  mainly  on  the 
water ;  and  as  the  large  lakes  lie  between 
the  States  and  Canada,  there  were  ships 
brought  on  to  these  lakes,  and  fighting 
done  here.  But  that  has  nothing  further 
to  do  with  my  story  than  to  explain  how 
it  happened  that  there  were  three  old  ves- 
sels on  Lake  Erie,  large  British  ships,  de- 
clared unfit  for  service  and  condemned." 

"What  does  that  mean?"  asked  But- 
terfly. 

"  Oh,  unfit  for  service — that  tells  you 
plain  enough.  Leaked,  perhaps,  or  there 
are  a  hundred  things  that  might  have 
happened  ;  but  it  is  not  often  that  a  vessel 
condemned  gets  turned  out  of  use,"  said 
Guy. 

"These    did,  though,"    went    on    the 


10  Trip  to  Montreal. 


story-teller,  "  as  you  shall  hear.  When 
it  was  known  that  they  were  condemned, 
there  came  a  number  of  petitions  to  the 
officers  to  allow  them  to  be  sent  over  the 
falls.  You  must  remember  they  were 
very  large  vessels,  and  people  thought  it 
would  be  a  splendid  sight  to  see  them  go 
pitching  over  and  over,  down  into  that 
awful  abyss." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  been  there.  Did 
they  let  them  go  ?"  asked  Guy. 

"  Yes,  the  authorities  had  no  objection. 
So,  on  the  appointed  day,  a  great  crowd 
collected  along  the  banks  of  the  river, 
near  the  falls,  and  the  vessels  were  got 
into  the  current  and  left  to  their  fate.  In 
order  to  add  to  the  interest  of  the  scene, 
some  one  offered  ten  dollars  for  the 
largest    piece    of  wood  that    should    be 


Mr.  Gliddons  Stories.  11 


found  after  the  vessels  had  gone  over  the 
falls,  five  dollars  for  the  second,  and  so 
on ;  and  as  some  of  the  spectators  were 
foolish  enough  to  suppose  a  vessel  might 
go  over  and  be  seen  afterwards,  there 
were  many  who  were  on  the  alert  to  earn 
the  money." 

"  Foolish  fellows,  I  am  sure,"  said  Guy. 

"  Yes,  yes.  You  shall  hear.  Away 
went  the  three  vessels  in  the  current. 
They  had  some  old  torn  flags  flying  from 
their  mast-heads,  and  many  gay  streamers, 
floating  away  as  merrily  as  if  they  had 
started  on  a  holiday  excursion,  the  poor 
old  ships !" 

"I  am  sorry  for  them,"  said  Butterfly, 
the  tears  dimming  her  blue  eyes  just  a 
little. 

"  That    is    foolish,    too,"    said    stanch 


12  Trip  to  Montreal. 


Guy.  "They  were  only  wood,  without 
anything  to  hurt — no  life,  or  soul,  or  feel- 
ing ;  yet,  if  they  were  brave  old  ships,  I 
am  sort  of  sorry." 

"  They  were  brave,  of  course,"  said  Mr. 
Gliddon,  innocently,  "if  they  had  the 
British  flag  above  them  ;  but  it  was  better 
to  die  a  gallant  death  like  that  than  to 
come  to  pieces  under  the  hammer.  I 
think,  if  they  had  souls,  they  would  have 
preferred  it." 

"  So  do  I,  if  they  must  die,"  said  Guy. 
"  Go  on,  please.     What  happened  next  ?" 

"  For  miles  they  kept  on  pretty  well 
together.  Then  they  got  into  the  rapids, 
and  the  oldest  and  weakest  was  torn  to 
shivers,  and  went  over  in  fragments.  The 
next  rode  on  up  in  sight  of  the  falls,  then 
filled  with  water,  and  went  down  ;  but  the 


4? 

Mr.  GliddorJs  Stories.  i3 


third,  the  noblest  of  the  three,  took  the 
leap  gallantly,  and  was  seen  retaining  her 
form  perfectly  until  she  was  lost  in  the 
misis  and  foam  below." 

"  Bravo  for  the  brave  old  ship !"  said 
Guy,  clapping  his  hands.  "  Did  they  ever 
find  her?" 

"  No  ;  only  one  piece  of  all  these  three 
large  vessels  was  ever  seen.  That  was 
about  a  foot  long,  was  mashed  as  by  a 
vice,  and  its  edges  were  notched  like  the 
teeth  of  a  saw." 

"O  my!"  said  Butterfly,  holding  her 
breath. 

"  You  may  well  say  '  O  my  !'  "  said  Mr. 
Gliddon,  putting  his  hand  affectionately 
upon  her.  "  My  story  shows  you  the 
mighty  power  of  these  falls ;  and  " — sink- 
ing his  voice  a  little  lower — "  it  tells  you, 


14  Trip  to  Montreal. 


too,  how  great  the  God  is  who  made 
them,  and  how  very,  very  good  to  love 
and  care  for  such  little,  insignificant 
creatures  as  we  are." 

The  children  both  seemed  struck  by 
this  thought ;  and,  after  a  moment's 
silence,  Guy  said  : 

"  But,  Mr.  Glidclon,  my  father  would 
say  that  mighty  water,  grand  as  it  is,  is  a 
very  small  thing  in  comparison  with  the 
immortal  soul  God  has  given  us;  and, 
after  all,  we  are  greater  than  even  these 
great  falls." 

"  And  your  father  would  be  right,"  said 
Mr.  Gliddon,  looking  with  much  interest 
at  the  child,  whose  education  among  older 
people  gave  him  now  and  then  an  un- 
natural maturity  of  thought  and  expres- 
sion. 


Mr.  Oliddons  Stories.  15 


"Worth,  more  than  sparrows — even 
such  little  pickaninnies  as  you,"  he  said, 
with  a  genial  smile,  which  quite  restored 
Butterfly  to  herself.  What  with  the  big 
vessels  tumbling  over  the  falls,  Mr. 
Gliddon's  unexpected  moral,  and  Guy's 
sage  remark,  she  was  becoming  a  little 
bewildered. 

"  I  can  tell  you  another  story,  about 
another  ship  that  was  sent  over  the 
falls." 

"  Oh,  do,  do  !"  said  both  children. 

"  Well,  there  was  such  a  desire  felt  to 
see  the  thing  done  again,  that,  some  years 
later,  a  few  men  purchased  a  large 
schooner." 

"  How  large  ?"  asked  Guy. 

"  About  one  hundred  and  forty  tons 
burden." 


16  Trip  to  Montreal. 


Guy  nodded,  as  if  he  underst 
fectly  just  how  large  that  was. 

"  And,"  went  on  the  story-teller,  "  had 
it  towed  down  the  river  to  within  half  a 
mile  of  the  rapids,  when  it  was  cut  adrL 
and  left  to  its  fate.     By  the  way,  do  yo 
know  what  makes  these  rapids?" 

"  Rocks,  I  suppose,"  said  Guy. 

"  Yes,  rocks,  from  two  to  four  feet  high, 
extending  wholly  across  the  river,  over 
which  the  water  pitches  successively 
for  about  a  mile  immediately  above  the 
main  cataract." 

"I  did  not  know  they  went  clear 
across,"  said  Guy. 

"Yes,  they  do  here.  And  the  vessel 
took  the  first  ledge  bravely,  but  when 
she  came  to  the  second,  as  she  pitched 
down,    over  went   her   masts.     And  now 


Mr.  Gliddon's  Stories.  17 


c?  et°the  most  interesting  part  of  my 
story.  Those  who  have  lived  longest 
by  the  falls,  and  know  most  about  them, 
say  nothing   ever   went   over    them   and 

ft 

oame  up  alive,  not  even  fish  or  water- 
owl.  Numbers  of  dead  fish  are  seen 
.every  day  in  the  gulf  below  the  falls, 
which  are  supposed  to  have  tumbled 
over,  and  now  and  then  a  wild  fowl  is 
found  that  had  fallen  asleep  above  the 
rapids,  and  so  floated  on  to   its   death." 

"  Poor  thing !"  said  Butterfly. 

"  Would  they  avoid  it  awake  ?"  asked 
Guy. 

"  Almost  always.  The  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  is  so  great  that  a  fowl  would 
rarely  swim  to  its  death.  But  to  set  the 
point  at  rest,  the  men  who  had  purchased 

this  schooner  put   two  bears   and   some 
2 


18  Trip  to  Montreal, 


other  animals  on  board,  and  they  went 
on  quietly  until  the  schooner  had  taken 
the  second  ledge.  Then  she  sprang  a 
leak  and  began  to  fill  with  water  ;  and 
no  sooner  did  the  bears  see  the  water 
come  rushing  in  than,  like  good,  sensible 
bears  as  they  were,  they  seemed  to  have 
a  misgiving  all  was  not  right,  and,  walking 
about  on  deck,  were  seen  to  be  looking- 
for  some  means  of  escape.  After  spring- 
ing the  leak,  the  vessel  turned  stern 
foremost  and  floated  along  more  quietly. 
So  what  should  these  wise  bears  do  but 
step  overboard  and  swim  ashore." 

"Truly,  Mr.  Gliddon?"  asked  Guy,  in- 
credulously. 

"  I  do  not  suppose  there  is  a  doubt  of 
it.  They  had  a  great  deal  of  difficulty, 
and  they  were  carried  half  way  down  to 


Mr.  Gliddoris  Stories.  19 


the  Horse-shoe  Fall  by  the  rapidity  of  the 
current  before  they  succeeded  in  reach- 
ing the  shore.     But  they  did  at  last. 

"Hurrah  for  the  bears!"  said  Guy, 
swinging  his  cap  over  his  head,  much  to 
the  amusement  of  the  passengers  in  the 
cars.  But  Butterfly  asked  as  usual,  want- 
ing to  know  the  end  of  the  story : 

"What  became  of  them  then?" 

"I  don't  know.  Perhaps  they  were 
allowed  their  freedom  after  that.  I  think 
they  deserved  it." 

"  Perhaps  their  fright  tamed  them,  and 
they  were  ready  when  they  came  ashore 
to  promise  to  do  no  harm  for  all  the  future 
years  of  their  lives,  like  eating  up  inno- 
cent children  and  pretty  lambs,"  said  Guy. 

"Perhaps  so,  no  one  can  tell.  And, 
fortunately  for  our  story,  no  one  knows." 


20  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"  But  about  the  schooner  ?" 

"  Yes.  The  schooner,  after  she  changed 
her  position  to  stern  foremost,  seemed  to 
lose  heart,  and  went  swinging  along,  until 
she  came  to  the  great  Horse-shoe  Fall. 
Then  she  steadied  herself  for  one  moment, 
as  if  reflecting  whether  she  would  leap  or 
not,  and  over  she  went,  her  bowsprit  being 
the  last  thing  that  was  seen  of  her." 

"  But  she  came  up  again  ?"  asked 
Guy. 

"Never — though  many  of  her  pieces 
did.  They  were  picked  up  miles  away,  in 
small  bits,  bruised,  torn  all  to  shivers  ; 
hardly,  it  may  be  said,  a  whole  atom  of 
her  left." 

"And  the  animals  —  the  poor,  poor 
helpless  things  ?"  asked  Butterfly. 

"  Yes — a  little  sir]  should  think  of  them, 


Mr.  GUddons  Stories.  21 


None  ever  came  to  shore  but  the  bears, 
as  I  have  told  you.  If  a  fish  or  a  water- 
fowl could  not  go  over  the  falls,  an  animal 
would  have  very  little  chance." 

"I  think  it  was  cruel,"  said  Butterfly, 
indignantly. 

Just  at  this  moment  the  car-whistle 
sounded  vigorously,  and  Mr.  Gliddon 
said,  much  to  the  children's  surprise, 
"  Here  we  are  at  Le  wist  on ;"  and  Guy's 
mother  called,  as  I  have  already  told  my 
readers,  "  Guy !"  so  the  children  hastily 
gathered  up  their  things,  and  by  the 
time  the  cars  were  in  the  station  they  were 
ready  to  get  out. 

The  station  was  some  distance  from  the 
steamboat  landing,  and  now  there  was 
to  come  piling  into  stage-coaches,  which 
was  to   show  the   true   character   of  the 


22  Trip  to  Montreal 


travellers,  for  the  coaches  could  not 
contain  all  who  wished  to  go.  The 
walk  to  the  boat  would  be  long,  the  road 
sandy,  the  day  hot,  and  the  boat  off  at  the 
appointed  time  without  waiting  for  pas- 
sengers. All  this  Guy  ascertained,  after 
running  about  and  making  a  few  inquiries, 
then  he  returned  to  consult  with  the  ladies 
of  his  party. 

"  We  cannot  walk,  that  is  certain,"  said 
Aunt  Matilda. 

"  No,  Guy  is  the  only  one  that  can  do 
so,"  said  his  mother. 

"  I  can,"  said  Butterfly. 

"Yes,  she  is  as  good  as  a  boy,"  said 
Guy.  "  Do  let  her.  If  we  may  both  walk, 
perhaps  there  can  room  be  made  for  you 
three  ladies.     I  will  see." 

In  a  moment  he  returned  with  a  radiant 


Mr.  Gliddon's  Stories.  23 


face.  "  The  driver  says,"  he  said,  "  if  we 
will  walk,  he  will  see  you  over  the  road  in 
some  way,  and  no  fail.  I  think  we  can 
trust  him,  he  looks  clever.  So,  Butterfly, 
we  will  be  off  with  those  people  that  are 
just  starting.   There  they  go — come  quick !" 

"There  is  no  trouble  in  their  going," 
said  Guy's  mother,  in  reply  to  an  inquiring 
look  from  Aunt  Bessie,  "  if  you  are  not 
afraid  of  Butterfly's  getting  too  tired." 

"  I  am  not.  She  is  strong,  and  loves  a 
walk,  and  I  knowf  we  can  trust  Guy  to 
take  care  of  her." 

Guy  placed  himself  a  step  nearer  But- 
terfly, and  looked  up  in  Aunt  Bessie's  face 
with  a  pleased,  grateful  look,  but  did  not 
answer  her.  Then  he  took  hold  of  But- 
terfly's hand,  and  touching  his  cap  to  the 
ladies,  in  quite  as  old  and  gentlemanly  a 


24  Trip  to  Montreal. 


way  as  his  father  would  have  done,  the 
two  children  followed  the  few  who  had 
been  obliging  and  ready  to  walk. 

A  gentleman  saw  the  children  coming, 
and  stopped  for  them. 

"  You  are  active  young  travellers,"  ho 
said,  as  they  approached.  "  I  love  to  see 
children  who  know  their  feet  were  made 
to  use." 

"  We  are  very  fond  of  walking,"  said  Guy. 

"  Are  you  brother  and  sister  ?" 

"  0  no.  My  name  is  Guy  Harrington, 
and  this  is  Butterfly — I  mean,  Ellen 
Courtland.    We  are  not  relations." 

"  So,  so,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  with 
a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "  That  is  be- 
ginning early." 

Guy  did  not  know  what  he  meant,  but 
Butterfly   did.     She  was   sure  he  meant 


Mr.  Gliddons  Stories.  25 


they  were  young  to  be  travelling,  and 
walking  part  of  the  way  too.  So  she 
said : 

"  0  no,  sir  !  I  am  ten  years  old,  and  I 
have  my  aunts  with  me,  and  they  like  to 
have  me  walk  whenever  I  can.  They 
don't  love  a  lazy  child.  I  have  heard 
them  say  so  a  hundred  times." 

"  Sensible  aunts,  those  of  yours,"  said 
the  gentleman,  with  another  smile.  "  I 
must  make  their  acquaintance.  But  while 
you  are  away  from  them,  let  us  see  all  we 
can.  What  is  that,  right  before  you? 
Can  you  tell  me?  I  am  quite  sure  you 
neither  of  you  ever  saw  anything  as  flue 
before." 

Guy  and  Butterfly  both  looked  in  the 
direction  of  his  finger,  and  Guy  said,  "  The 
great  bridge !" 


II. 


WHAT  THEY  SAW. 

S  Guy  uttered  the  words,  "The 

great   bridge,"   with   which   my 

-r~**  last    chapter    closed,   Butterfly, 

dropping  his  hand,  turned  and  made   a 

few  hasty  steps  back.      This  then,  right 

before    her,  was    the    great    Suspension 

Bridge,  which,  when  it  was  erected,  she 

had  heard    Aunt    Matilda    say  was   the 

biggest  and  most  wonderful  bridge  in  the 

world.     Here  was  the  bridge — but  where 

were  the  aunts? 

*  Butterfly !"  called  Guy,  in  much  asto~ 

nishment,  "  where  are  you  going  ?" 
(26) 


What  They  Saiv.  27 


"To  tell  them,"  answered  Butterfly,  a 
little  doubtfully. 

"  Tell  who,  and  what  ?" 

"  Why,  my  aunts,  that  here  is  the  great 
bridge." 

"  As  if  they  had  not  eyes  in  their 
heads  to  see  it  for  themselves  !" 

"  So  they  have,"  said  Butterfly,  stopping 
abruptly,  and  then  coming  back ;  "  but, 
O  dear !  isn't  it  splendid !  Tell  me  all 
about  it,  Guy."  And  taking  hold  of  his 
hand  again,  she  looked  up  in  his  face 
eagerly  for  information. 

"All  I  know  about  it  is  very  easily 
told,"  said  Guy,  laughing.  "There  is 
the  bridge.  Can  you  tell  us,  sir,"  speak- 
ing to  the  gentleman  who  had  waited 
for  them,  "  anything  more  ?" 

"  I  think  I  can,"  answered  the  gentle- 


28  Trip  to  Montreal 


man,  pleasantly.  "  When  it  was  made,  it 
was  considered  one  of  the  wonders  of 
the  world.  It  connects,  as  you  see, 
Canada  and  the  United  States,  and  be- 
longs to  a  company  formed  from  men  of 
both  countries." 

"Who  built  it?"  asked  Guy,  always 
desirous  to  know  who  had  done  a  great 
thing. 

"A  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Serrell, 
from  Canada  East.  You  see,  it  was 
very  desirable  to  have  this  way  of 
communicating  between  the  two  countries ; 
but  to  make  a  bridge  here  seemed  almost 
impossible.  Let  me  tell  you  the  dimen- 
sions of  this.  Then,  if  you  know  anything 
of  figures,  you  will  have  some  idea  how 
large  it  is." 

"  I  don't  know  that  we  shall  remember 


What  They  Saw.  29 


theni,  but  we  shall  be  glad  to  be  told," 
said  Guy. 

"I  hardly  think  you  will.  Yet  some- 
times a  difficult  thing  like  this  is  the  very 
one  a  child  remembers  when  it  forgets 
a  great  deal  simpler  one.  I  wonder  if 
you  know  a  child's  mind,  like  its  body, 
grows  by  what  it  feeds  on ;  so  the 
stronger  the  food,  often  the  stronger  the 
growth." 

"  Tough  figures  will  make  tough  minds, 
then,"  said  Guy,  smiling. 

"  Something  like  that.  Trying  to 
remember  a  hard  thing  will  make  you 
able  to  do  hard  work  ;  and  that  is  what 
you  must  do  if  you  are  to  make  a  man 
one  of  these  days,"  laying  his  hand 
kindly  on  Guy's  shoulder. 

"  It  is  what  I  intend  to  be,  sir,"  said 


30  Trip  to  Montreal. 


Guy.  "  And  now  for  the  pill,  or  the  tonic, 
or  whatever  you  would  call  it,  while  we 
have  the  bridge  before  us  to  help  us 
swallow  it." 

"  This  bridge,  you  see,  has  a  very  long 
span.  It  is  one  thousand  and  forty-five 
feet  long.  Now,  of  course,  such  a  length 
must  have  very  firm  supports;  so  there 
they  are,  large  towers  of  cut  stone !" 

"What  makes  them  stand  in  the 
water?"  asked  Guy,  looking  at  them 
curiously. 

"  They  are  secured  by  anchors  sunk 
firmly  into  the  solid  rock ;  and  then,  on 
each  side,  there  are  five  cables." 

"  I  know  about  cables.  They  are  big 
ropes,  or  wires,  or  something  that  holds 
up,  made  of  ever  so  many  small  cords." 

"  Yes,  each  cable  here  is  made  of  two 


What  They  Saw.  31 


hundred  and  fifty  strands  of  wire.  Only 
think  of  that !" 

"Five  times  two  hundred  and  fifty 
make  twelve  hundred  and  fifty  wires," 
said  Guy,  readily.  "  That  is  a  great 
number." 

"  Yes,  and  every  one  of  these  wires  is 
twelve  hundred  and  forty-five  feet  in  length. 
Now  multiply  the  length  by  the  width,  and 
see  how  much  wire  there  is  there." 

This  was  too  long  a  sum  for  Guy  to  do 
in  his  head,  and  I  am  not  sure  but 
Butterfly  might  have  made  a  mistake  if 
she  had  attempted  it  upon  her  slate ;  so 
Guy  said,  after  one  or  two  useless  efforts, 
that  he  could  not  make  it  out ;  and  the 
gentleman  confessed  that  he  had  been 
trying  also,  but  could  not  get  beyond  the 
first  two  figures. 


32  Trip  to  Montreal. 


After  this  confession,  the  children  stood 
in  much  less  awe  of  him,  walked  nearer 
to  him,  and  began  to  chat  in  a  free-and- 
easy  way,  which  pleased  the  gentleman 
very  much. 

"  What  is  that?"  asked  Butterfly,  stop- 
ping quite  still,  as  she  often  did  when  any- 
thing interested  her,  and  pointing  to  a  tall 
stone  shaft,  on  the  side  of  the  river  oppo- 
site Lewiston,  where  the  bridge  ended. 

"  That  is  Brock's  Monument,  and  the 
town  it  is  in  is  Queenstown." 

"And  Queenstown  is  in  Canada;  there- 
fore it  is  named  for  her  right  royal 
majesty  Queen  Victoria,"  said  Guy. 

"  I  presume  so ;  but  it  is  more  noted 
for  the  gallant  defence  the  British  made 
here  in  the  war  of  1812,  than  for  anything 
else.     There    was   a    brave     officer,    Sir 


What   They  Saw.  33 


Isaac  Brock,  killed  at  that  time.  The 
English  are  very  fond  of  putting  up 
monuments  to  mark  any  worthy  action. 
If  a  man  dies  bravely  righting  for  his 
country,  they  like  to  build  something 
which  shall  say  to  those  around,  '  See 
here !  England  remembers,  and  wants  eve- 
rybody that  comes  here  to  remember  also, 
what  her  children  have  done  for  her !'" 

"Mr.  Gliddon  will  like  that,"  said  Guy, 
turning  to  Butterfly  ;  "  for  he  thinks  there 
is  no  other  country  in  the  world  quite 
equal  to  old  England." 

"And  Marie  says  France ;  and  I  say  the 
United  States  of  America,"  answered 
Butterfly. 

■■■  So  do  I !  Three  cheers  for  the  stars 
and  stripes !"  As  Guy  said  this,  he  took 
off  his  cap  and  swung  it  round  his  head. 


34  Trip  to  Montreal. 


But  as  for  that  cap  of  Guy's,  it  was  taken 
off,  tossed  up,  swung  round,  and  treated 
in  general  in  sucli  an  expressive  way  that 
the  only  wonder  was  it  ever  staid  on  his 
head  at  all.  Of  its  own  accord,  as  soon 
as  the  ideas  got  into  the  busy  brain 
below  it,  you  would  almost  have  expected 
to  see  it  starting  away. 

"  I  wish  we  could  go  to  this  monument," 
he  ended  by  saying  ;  "  but  I  suppose," — 
with  a  droll  smile — "  even  if  we  should 
ask  the  captain  of  our  steamboat  to  wait 
for  us,  he  would  hardly  be  obliging 
enough  to  do  so." 

"  I  am  afraid  not,"  said  the  gentleman ; 
"  but  as  I  have  been  there  and  you  cannot 
do  any  better  now,  suppose  you  see  it 
through  my  eyes?" 

"  I  should  like  that  right  well,  if  you 


What  They  Saw.  35 


please,  sir,"  said  Guy.  But  Butterfly,  not 
quite  understanding  him,  wondered  how 
they  could  do  so,  particularly  as  the 
gentleman  wore  spectacles  ;  so  she  looked 
at  him  with  such  an  expression  of  wonder 
on  her  face  that,  half  understanding  her, 
he  smiled. 

"  This  is  the  way,"  he  said,  answering 
her  without  any  further  explanation. 
"  The  monument  is  one  hundred  and 
eighty  feet  high,  but  instead  of  being- 
plain  stone,  as  it  looks  from  here,  it  is 
made  up  of  a  variety  of  stones.  First, 
there  is  a  great  stone,  forty  feet  square, 
with  four  lions  on  it." 

"  Eeal,  live  lions?"  asked  Butterfly. 

"  O  no ;  stone  lions.  The  emblem  of 
England  is  a  lion,  you  know,  so  they  are 
put  on  every  patriotic  thing." 


3f)  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"  As  we  use  the  eagle,"  said  Guv. 

"Yes,  in  the  same  way.  Well,  above 
this  conies  the  base  of  the  pedestal,  and 
then  the  pedestal,  and  then  the  base  of 
the  shaft,  and  then  the  shaft  itself,  and 
then  a  Corinthian  capital,  on  which  is 
wrought  a  statue  of  the  goddess  of  War." 

"  That  is  good,"  said  Guy,  "  as  Brock 
died  in  war." 

"  Yes,  very  appropriate.  Then  on  this 
capital  is  a  dome,  and  on  this  dome  is  a 
statue  of  General  Brock." 

"  It  must  be  pretty  large,  to  be  seen 
with  all  those  things  under  it,  I  should 
think,"  said  Guy. 

"It  is  a  colossal  statue,  which,  I  sup- 
pose, you  know  means  very  large." 

Now  Butterfly  had  seen  pictures  of  mon- 
uments, and  had   always  supposed  they 


What  They  Saw.  37 


were  just  tall  wooden  steeples  with  a  man 
or  a  horse  on  the  top,  as  they  had  a 
weather-cock  on  the  top  of  their  meeting- 
house steeple  at  home.  She  was,  there- 
fore, very  much  surprised  to  hear  that  it 
took  so  many  things  to  make  up  a  real 
one,  and  she  walked  along  with  her  eyes 
fixed  upon  this,  trying  to  remember  all 
she  had  been  told  about  it,  until,  hap- 
pening to  see  the  bridge  again,  she  was 
a  little  frightened  for  fear  she  should 
forget  the  number  of  cables,  wires, 
feet,  and  so  forth ;  and  the  consequence 
was  that  the  whole  information  began  to 
tumble  out  of  her  memory  as  fast  as  it 
could.  The  feet  kicking  the  wires,  the 
wires  letting  the  cables  slip,  the  cables 
pulling  down  the  towers,  the  towers 
pulling  up  the  anchors,  and  the  anchors 


38  Trip  to  Montreal 


dragging  down  the  whole  bridge,  and 
then  the  monument  came  tumbling  after 
it.  Away  went  General  Brock,  and  the 
dome,  and  the  Corinthian  capital,  and  the 
shaft,  and  the  base  of  the  shaft,  and  the 
pedestal,  and  the  base  of  the  pedestal ; 
and  even  the  lions  rolled  off  the  sides  of 
the  sub-base,  leaving  nothing  there  but  a 
great  square  stone,  after  all.  And  then 
there  was  the  water,  and  the  long  steam- 
boat, so  much  larger  than  the  Minnehaha 
on  Lake  George,  and  stage-coaches  rat- 
tling in,  and — yes,  there  could  be  no 
mistake  —  Aunt  Matilda,  Aunt  Bessie,  and 
Guy's  mother  so  near  them,  dashing  up 
the  road,  that  she  heard  Aunt  Bessie  say, 
"  There  are  the  children,  safe !" 

And  then  Guy's  cap  had  to  come  off,  of 
course,  and  there   was   a   great   deal   of 


What  They  Saw.  39 


waving  done,  with  about  as  much  shout- 
ing as  if  Guy  and  Butterfly  had  just  been 
saved  from  a  wreck  on  Kobinson  Crusoe's 
island.  But  I  must  say  for  Butterfly, 
that  her  part  of  this  was  quiet  and  lady- 
like. 

There  had  been  some  doubt  in  the 
travellers'  mind  whether  they  would  take 
the  American  or  English  steamer  to  Mont- 
real, but  they  had  decided  to  take  the 
American,  Guy  being  very  desirous  to 
patronize  everything  American  while  he 
could,  and  the  others  caring  little ;  so 
now,  without  delay,  they  went  on  board 
their  steamer,  and  Butterfly,  experienced 
traveller  as  she  already  thought  herself, 
found  a  new  world. 

The  boat  was  crowded  with  passengers, 
and  as  the  children  looked  around,  there 


40  Trip  to  Montreal, 


was  not  a  face  among  them  that  they  had 
ever  seen  before. 

"  I  thought  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gliddon  were 
coming,"  said  Butterfly,  much  disap- 
pointed at  missing  her  new,  kind  Mends. 

"  Catch  Mr.  Gliddon,"  answered  Guy, 
"  on  board  an  American  boat,  when  there 
was  an  English  one  to  be  found."  And 
then  Guy  congratulated  himself  on  his 
own  choice  having  been  adopted.  "We 
men — I  mean,  men  generally,"  said  Guy, 
correcting  himself,  "like  to  stick  by  oui 
own  flag,  if  we  can." 

"  I  like  the  new  things,"  said  Butterfly, 
innocently. 

"  So  do  I,  but  I  always  choose  American." 

This  was  something  Butterfly  could  not 
understand.  I  doubt  whether  she  would 
have  felt  just  so,  if  she  had ;  but  she  is 


What  They  Saw.  41 


only  a  little  girl,  you  know,  so  you  must 
excuse  her. 

While  the  children  were  looking  about 
them,  and  talking  busily,  the  aunts  and 
Guy's  mother  had  been  hunting  up  their 
state-rooms,  the  numbers  of  which  were 
upon  the  tickets  they  had  bought  in  Nia- 
gara. As  soon  as  they  had  found  them, 
Aunt  Bessie  came  for  Butterfly. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  "  and  see  what  a 
cunning  little  room  you  are  to  have  for 
the  next  twenty-four  hours.' 

In  her  haste  to  follow,  B  itterfly  forgot 
to  take  her  travelling-bag.  She  had  put 
it  down  close  by  a  seat  when  she  first 
came  on  board,  and  that  v  as  the  last  she 
thought  of  it  until  Aunt  Bessie  said,  as 
she  turned  the  key  of  the  state-room : 

"  We  will  put  our  bags  in  here,  and  you 


42  Trip  to  Montreal, 


can  take  off  your  hat,  if  you  wish.  This 
boat  is  our  hotel  for  the  present,  and  we 
shall  live  here  as  we  did  at  the  Clarendon." 

But  Butterfly  heard  very  little  of  what 
Aunt  Bessie  was  saying.  Everything 
else  was  lost  in  the  thought  of  the  bag. 

"  0  dear !  Guy !  Aunt  Bessie !  O  dear 
me!"  she  said,  clasping  her  hands  to- 
gether, and  looking  very  much  frightened. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Aunt  Bessie, 
startled. 

"My  bag— I've  lost  it!" 

Now,  as  this  was  the  first  thing  Butter- 
fly had  lost  since  she  had  been  on  her 
travels,  Aunt  Bessie  did  not,  even  when 
she  first  heard  of  it,  feel  disposed  to 
blame  her.     So  she  said,  quietly  : 

"I  do  not  think  it  is  lost.  Don't  be 
frightened.    Try  to  recollect  where  you  had 


What  They  Saw.  43 


it  last.  I  saw  it  in  your  hand  when  you 
came  on  board  of  the  boat." 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Guy,  "she  put  it 
down  on  deck.  If  it  has  not  been  stolen, 
it  is  there  now.     Come,  Butterfly !" 

So  the  children  rushed  up  on  deck — in 
a  way  which  made  timid  people  that  saw 
them  think  some  accident  was  about  to 
happen — to  the  spot  where  Guy  thought 
she  might  have  left  it.  But  how  differ- 
ent everything  looked,  now  they  were  con- 
fused and  in  a  hurry.  The  cabin  door 
seemed  to  have  turned  itself  about  to 
where  the  smoke-pipe  was,  and  the  smoke- 
pipe  to  have  taken  its  station  where  the 
cabin  door  was.  The  long  row-boats  that 
they  knew  were  swung  on  the  middle  of  the 
steamer  seemed  to  have  gone  to  the  stern, 
and  the  wheel  to  have  followed  them.     In 


44  Trip  to  Montreal, 


short,  everything  had  turned  topsy-turvy 
while  they  had  been  in  the  cabin. 

"  Little  miss,"  said  a  gruff  voice,  swing- 
ing Butterfly's  bag  under  her  very  nose  at 
the  minute  she  was  ready  to  cry  from  dis- 
appointment and  alarm,  "if  you  are 
looking  for  this,  here  it  is.  I  saw  you  put 
it  down,  and  then  run  away  ;  so  I  kept  my 
eye  on  it  for  you.  It  isn't  the  safest  way 
of  travelling,  even  for  a  child.  Is  there 
no  one  on  board  who  has  the  care  of 
you?" 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  I  have,"  said  Guy,  tak- 
ing the  bag,  with  a  nice  bow. 

"And  so  have  my  aunts,"  added  But- 
terfly. "I  do  thank  you  very  much  in- 
deed. I  thought  I  had  lost  it  forever, 
and  I  was  so  sorry,  for  I  didn't  mean  to 
lose  a  thing   all   the   time.     My   mother 


What  They  Saw.  45 


said  it  would  make  me  troublesome,  if  I 
did.     I  do  thank  you  a  thousand  times." 

"You  are  very  welcome,"  said  the  man, 
smiling. 

How  tall  and  large  he  was,  and  how  grim 
he  did  look,  for  all  his  smile !  Butterfly  took 
her  bag,  looking  up  in  a  very  timid  way. 
Something  about  him  made  her  think  in  a 
moment  of  the  lions  she  had  heard  about  on 
the  side  of  General  Brock's  monument,  but 
she  would  not  have  said  this,  even  to  Gu}r, 
for  Butterfly  was  a  grateful  little  girl. 

Aunt  Bessie  was  very  glad  when  the 
children  came  running  into  the  state-room 
with  the  lost  bag.  She  kissed  the  little 
excited  face  lifted  up  to  hers,  for  this 
expression  of  forgiveness,  and  then  said. 

"  Now  we  will  put  our  room  in  order  foi 
the  trip." 


Ill 


BUTTERFLY     AT     SEA. 


00M,  Aunt  Bessie !"  This,  after 
sitting  some  moments  in  silence, 
looking  around  the  state-room, 
was  Butterfly's  first  exclamation,  ac- 
companied by  a  merry  laugh.  "  Do  you 
call  this  bit  of  a  cubby,  a  real,  live 
room  ?" 

Now  Aunt  Bessie  understood  that  when 
Butterfly  asked  if  a  thing  was  live,  she 
meant  a  real,  true  thing,  and  not  a  part  of 
a  story  or  a  plaything,  so  she  answered  : 

"As  we  are  to  stay  here  until  we  reach 
Ogdensburg,  to-morrow,  we  shall  find  it  is." 

(46) 


Butterfly  at  Sea.  47 


"  O  my !  isn't  it  splendid !  Isn't  it  the 
most  beautiful,  perfect,  elegant  place  you 
ever  saw  in  all  your  life,  Aunt  Bessie  ?" 

"Well,"  said  Aunt  Bessie, laughing,  "1 
can't  say  that  it  is.  You  use  almost  too 
many  of  those  great  words  for  so  little  a 
girl,  don't  you,  Butterfly?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,  mother  says  I  do.  But 
O  dear !  O  dear  me  !  I  never,  in  all  my 
whole,  live-long  life,  saw,  or  knew,  or  heard, 
or  dreamt  of  such  a  be — a — u — ti — fu — 1 
room.  Why,  I  don't  believe  Princess 
Adelaide,  or  Princess  Alice,  or  any  of 
Queen  Victoria's  little  girls,  have  one  half 
so  cunning !  Are  we  really  and  truly  go- 
ing to  have  this  for  our  own  until  we  get 
to  Ogdensburg?" 

"Keally  and  truly,"  answered  Aunt 
Bessie. 


48  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"Then  let's  fix  up."  Saying  which, 
Butterfly  jumped  from  the  odd-shaped 
seat  upon  which  she  had  been  sitting, 
drew  aside  some  white  muslin  curtains, 
and  peeped  behind  them.  There  were 
two  cunning  little  beds  made  up  with  the 
whitest  of  sheets  and  counterpanes,  and 
the  tiniest  of  pillows. 

"What  is  this?"  she  asked,  after 
looking  a  minute. 

"  These  are  our  beds.  The  name  on 
board  a  boat  for  them  is  berths.  How 
do  you  like  them  ?" 

Butterfly  answered  by  jumping  into 
one,  and  extending  herself  at  full  length. 

"  I  sha'n't  sleep  one  wink,"  she  said,  at 
length. 

"  Why  not?"  asked  Aunt  Bessie. 

"  0  dear !     It  is  so  nice  !     I  can't  bear 


Butterfly  at  Bea.  49 


to  lose  a  minute  from  seeing  it.  I  shall 
stay  awake  all  night  long  so  not  to." 

"  Shall  you  ?"  said  Aunt  Bessie,  gravel}'. 

"  All  night  long.  I  wouldn't  lose  seeing 
it  for  all  the  world !  "Was  it  made  a  pur- 
pose, Aunt  Bessie?" 

"  On  purpose  for  what?" 

"Why,  for  little  girls  to  be  so  happy 
in." 

H  I  rather  think  it  was,"  said  good  Aunt 
Bessie. 

"  Well,  this  is  the  goodest  world  I  ever 
did  live  in."  And  as  she  said  this,  Butter- 
fly drew  herself  upon  her  elbow,  and 
looked  delightedly  around  her.  "It  is 
not  bigger  than  Carrie  Jones'  baby-house, 
yet  they  are  all  here." 

They  was  not  very  definite,  but  Aunt 
Bessie  understood  her  to  mean  everything 


50  Trip  to  Montreal. 


that  was  indispensably  needed  in  a  sleep- 
ing-room ;  so  she  said  : 

"  Yes,  all  here,  on  a  limited  scale,  But- 
terfly." 

"  I  don't  know  just  what  you  mean  by  a 
limited  scale,  Aunt  Bessie,  but  I  had 
rather  have  it  than  the  biggest  parlor  at 
Saratoga." 

"  I  dare  say." 

"I'll  put  my  bag  here,  and  your  bag 
there.  My  trunk — where  is  my  trunk,  Aunt 
Bessie?" 

"  With  the  rest  of  the  luggage.  I  don't 
know  where  it  is  kept." 

"And  are  not  we  to  have  it  here?" 

"  "Where  would  you  put  it  ?" 

Butterfly  looked  around  the  state-room. 
With  Aunt  Bessie  and  herself  both  stand- 


Butterfly  at  Sea.  51 


ing,  I  doubt  whether  she  could  have  found 
room  to  put  down  a  quart  cup. 

"  So  there  isn't,"  she  said,  after  making 
a  very  deliberate  survey.  "I  like  it, 
though,  better  and  better." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  said  Aunt  Bessie. 
"  Nowr  I  will  lie  down  a  few  minutes,  so 
you  shall  have  room  to  do  your  contem- 
plated fixing  up." 

Butterfly  thought  first  just  what  Aunt 
Bessie  could  mean  by  contemplated  ;  but, 
not  being  able  to  satisfy  herself,  and  not 
liking  to  be  troublesome,  she  resolved  to 
wait  until  some  other  time  to  inquire,  and 
go  to  work  now. 

It  was  amusing  to  lie  still,  as  Aunt 
Bessie  did,  and  watch  Butterfly.  She 
was  an  orderly  little  girl,  and  had,  besides, 
a  tasteful  way  of  arranging.     Her  mother 


52  Trip  to  Montreal. 


had  early  taught  her  it  costs  no  more 
trouble,  and  brings  about  a  much  more 
desirable  result,  to  do  whatever  she  did  in 
the  nicest  and  prettiest  way.  To  lay  her 
clothes  smoothly  in  her  drawers  ;  to  have 
her  handkerchiefs  put  squarely  in  a  pile  ; 
her  hair-ribbons  laid  smoothly  in  a  little 
box,  the  colors  that  looked  best  together 
side  by  side  ;  and  all  the  other  tasteful 
things  which  little  girls  will  love  to  do  if 
they  are  willing  to  take  pains.  These  are 
two  very  important  words — "  Take  pains." 
I  wonder  if  my  young  friends  who  are 
reading  this  book  know  how  much  they 
mean  ? 

Butterfly  was  taking  pains  as  she 
arranged  her  own  and  Aunt  Bessie's 
travelling  things,  so  the  good  aunt  loved 
to  watch  her  as  she  rested. 


Butterfly  at  Sea.  53 


So  fully  was  Butterfly  occupied  for  a 
half  hour  that  she  forgot  everybody  and 
everything  else,  therefore  she  was  startled 
when  she  heard  a  knock  at  the  state-room 
door. 

"What  is  that?"  she  asked. 

"  A  knock  on  the  door.     Open  it." 

"Do  they  knock  here?  How  funny!" 
And  opening  the  door  there  stood  Guy. 

"  Are  you  never  coming  out  ?"  he  asked, 
a  little  impatiently.  ■"  I  have  been  wait- 
ing here  as  patient  as  a  saint  this  long 
time.  I  thought  we  should  get  to  Mont- 
real before  you  made  your  appearance, 
and  you  have  lost  seeing  the  last  of  the 
bridge  and  the  monument  already." 

"  Why,"  said  Butterfly,  a  little  confused, 
"  we  haven't  started  yet.  I've  been  wait- 
ing for   the  boat   to    move,   then  I   was 


54  Trip  to  Montreal. 


coming.  And,  0  Guy !"  throwing  her 
door  wide  open  and  pulling  him  in,  "  did 
you  ever  see  such  a  beauty  of  a  room  ?" 

"  There  are  two  hundred  on  board  this 
very  boat  as  like  it  as  two  peas  in  a  pod," 
said  Guy,  contemptuously. 

"  Two  hundred !"  And  Butterfly  fairly 
held  her  breath  in  surprise. 

"  Of  course  there  are.  Where  did  you 
suppose  all  these  passengers  were  to 
sleep?" 

"I  never  thought."  Which  was  very 
true.  Butterfly  had  been  too  busy  with 
other  things. 

"Where  is  Aunt  Matilda?"  she  said, 
remembering  her. 

"  She  is  with  my  mother.  They  have  a 
state-room  together  next  to  mine.  And  I, 
poor  solitary  chap  that  I  am,  have  to  take 


Butterfly  at  Sea.  55 


in  a  big  man  for  company.  By  the  way, 
I  believe  it  is  that  very  gruff  fellow  that 
kept  your  bag  for  you,  so  he  is  good- 
natured,  at  least." 

"Indeed  he  is.  I  thank  him  a  thou- 
sand times.  Now  let  us  go  and  see 
them." 

"See  who?"  Guy  could  not  get  used 
to  Butterfly's  indefinite  way  of  saying 
things.  She  seemed  to  suppose,  because 
she  knew  so  well  what  she  wanted  to  do, 
everybody  else  must  know  also. 

"Why,  your  mother  and  Aunt  Ma- 
tilda !" 

"Come,  then;  only  hurry,  or  we  shall 
be  in  the  rapids  before  we  are  on 
deck." 

Aunt  Matilda's  state-room  was  at  the 
opposite  extremity  of  the  cabin  from  the 


56  Trip  to  Montreal. 


one  occupied  by  Butterfly,  so,  as  the 
children  went  towards  it,  Butterfly  had  a 
fine  chance  to  peep  in  at  the  many  open 
doors  of  the  state-rooms. 

No  one  saw  the  child,  with  her  beam- 
ing, pretty  face,  so  full  of  amused  aston- 
ishment, but  smiled  back ;  therefore,  by 
the  time  Guy  tapped  at  his  mother's  door, 
Butterfly  hardly  knew  how  to  contain  her 
happiness  within  proper  bounds. 

"0  my!  Aunt  Matilda,"  she  said, 
tumbling  in  head  first,  "  there  are  two 
hundred  of  them !  Guy  says  there  are. 
And  here  is  yours  besides ;  and  they 
are  play-rooms,  after  all.  Aunt  Bessie 
thought  they  were  real  live  ones !" 

Aunt  Matilda  was  so  accustomed  to 
Butterfly's  random  way  of  speaking  that 
she  easily  understood  her,  so  she  said : 


Butterfly  at  Sea. 


"It  is  all  very  new  and  droll  to  you, 
isn't  it?" 

"  It  is  the  beautifulest  place  I  ever  saw  ; 
and  there  were  ever  so  many  little  girls, 
and  such  a  lot  of  shawls,  and  red  curtains 
in  some,  and  white  in  the  others,  and 
white  bed-quilts,  and  " 

"  If  you  are  going  to  give  an  inventory 
of  the  whole  two  hundred,"  said  Guy, 
interrupting  her,  "  that  will  end  us  for  to- 
day. We  may  as  well  give  it  up  for 
lost." 

"  What  is  an  inventory  ?"  asked  Butter- 
fly, easily  diverted. 

"  A  list  of  articles  contained  anywhere." 

"That  is  hardly  Webster's  definition, 
I  think,  Guy,"  said  his  mother,  smiling. 

"  No ;  but  it  will  answer.  Ready,  But- 
terfly?" 


58  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"When  the  boat  starts,  and  I  have 
kissed  Aunt  Matilda,"  said  Butterfly, 
holding  up  her  lips. 

"  My  kiss  too,"  said  Guy's  mother. 

"  How  girls  do  love  to  kiss !"  said  Guy, 
looking  on. 

"So  do  some  boys,"  said  his  mother, 
bending  over  him. 

Guy  did  not  say  a  word,  but  Butterfly 
heard  a  sound  very  like  a  kiss,  then  he 
held  his  hand  out  to  her,  and  said, 
"  Come !"  So  they  went'  back  again 
through  the  whole  length  of  the  cabin, 
Butterfly,  more  at  home  now,  nodding  and 
smiling  to  the  little  girls  in  the  state- 
rooms. 

"  You  talk  about  starting.  Let  me  see 
you  find  the  bridge  and  the  monument,  if 
you  can,"  said  Guy,  as  he    brought  twp 


Butterfly  at  Sea.  59 


stools  and  put  them  in  the  stern  of  the 
boat,  where  the  view  was  uninterrupted. 

Butterfly  looked  in  all  directions,  but 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  them  ;  and  then, 
to  her  surprise,  she  found  the  boat  was 
actually  on  its  way.  She  had  no  idea 
before,  so  quietly  did  it  move,  that  they 
had  left  the  wharf  at  Lewiston. 

"After  all,  we  are  just  in  time."  These 
were  the  first  words  Guy  spoke  after  they 
had  seated  themselves. 

"  That  is  Fort  Niagara  right  before  you. 
I  thought  we  had  lost  it." 

"  Why,  it  is  not  a  bit  like  Fort  Ticon- 
deroga,"  said  Butterfly,  looking  at  the  fort 
with  intense  interest. 

"No,  because  this  is  a  fort  and  that  was 
not.  I  wish  we  had  some  one  here  to  tell 
us  stories  of  this  fort.     It  has  been  a 


60  Trip  to  Montreal 


famous  place  in  the  wars  of  the  whites 
and  the  Indians,  and  also  those  between 
the  French  and  English." 

Guy  gazed  around  among  the  passen- 
gers who  were  nearest  them,  hoping  to 
find  the  wished-for  story-teller ;  but  no 
one  who  looked  as  if  he  cared  in  the  least 
for  the  little  boy  and  girl  was  to  be  seen, 
so  he  began  himself : 

"  I  can  tell  you  this  much  about  it.  It 
stands  at  the  mouth  of  the  Niagara  river, 
where  it  empties  into  Lake  Ontario.  Now, 
before  you  know  it,  we  shall  be  in  the 
lake.  You  see,  this  is  to  keep  great  ves- 
sels from  sailing  up  the  river,  if  we  ever 
should  quarrel  with  Great  Britain  and  go 
to  war."  ■-."".".•■ 

Butterfly  had  little  idea  what  it  meant 
to  go  to  war,  and  so  the  most  she  thought 


Butterfly  at  Sea.  61 


of  the  fort  was  that  it  was  a  very  ugly- 
looking  building,  not  half  as  pretty  as  Fort 
Ticonderoga,  that  Guy  said  was  just  "  no 
fort  at  all." 

"  Pretty  soon  we  shall  see  an  English 
fort,"  said  Guy.  "  You  must  remember, 
Butterfly," — Butterfly  nodded  her  head 
by  way  of  promise  that  she  would — 
"  that  Lake  Ontario  and  the  river  St. 
Lawrence  run  between  two  distinct 
countries,  Canada  and  the  United  States  ; 
and  that,  as  we  sail  along,  we  shall  have 
English  towns  on  one  side  and  American 
on  the  other ;  just  as  now,  there  is  Fort 
Niagara,  American,  on  this  side,  and — 
there,  you  will  see  it  very  soon — Fort 
Massasanga  on  the  other.  Let  us  watch 
and  see  if  the  American  isn't  a  great  deal 
the  best." 


62  tfrip  to  Montreal. 


"  Yes,"  said  Butterfly,  gravely.  "  But  I 
don't  like  forts  half  as  well  as  I  do  the 
water.  Oh,  Guy,  do  look  there,  and  see 
how  smooth  and  beautiful  it  is,  all  but 
where  the  boat  has  gone,  and  that  looks — 
looks — looks" — and  Butterfly  hesitated, 
trying  to  think  of  something  it  did  look 
like. 

"  Like  the  foam  of  the  ocean,"  said 
Guy. 

"  Yes,  I  guess  so.  I  never  saw  it,  but 
it  does,"  answered  Butterfly,  perfectly 
satisfied. 

"  I  say,"  Guy  called  out,  suddenly, 
"  did  you  see  it  ?" 

"  See  what '?"  asked  Butterfly,  starting 
up  and  opening  her  eyes  very  wide. 

"  Why,  that  fish.  I  should  think  it  was 
as  long  as  my  whole  arm,"  extending  an 


Butterfly  at  Sea.  63 


arm  which  to   a  man  might    not    have 
seemed  so  very  long. 
"No— where?" 

"  Oh,  it's  gone  for  good.  Butterfly,  if 
the  steamboat  would  only  stop  a  little 
while,  and  somebody  would  lend  me  a 
line,  I  could  catch  fish  enough  for  a  picnic 
dinner." 

"  How  nice  that  would  be !"  said  But- 
terfly. "  And  we  would  put  off  to  a  little 
island,  as  the  people  do  on  Lake  George, 
and  have  a  grand  time." 

"  Yes,  and  we  would  camp  out." 
"  So  we  could  !     And  we  would  build  a 
fire,  and  make  a  nice  cup  of  tea  for  your 
aunts  and  my  mother." 
"  And  then  at  night !" 
"  What  would  you  do,  then  ?" 
The   children   turned   to   see   a  boy,  a 


64  Trip  to  Montreal. 


little  larger  than  Guy,  standing  close  by 
his  side.  The  boy  was  dressed  like  an 
old  man,  Guy  thought,  and  looked  so 
differently  from  the  children  with  whom 
he  had  been  used  to  play,  that  for  an 
instant  he  was  rather  in  doubt  whether  it 
was  a  boy  or  a  dwarf  that  had  spoken  to 
him.  But  the  boy  raised  his  hat  politely, 
and  said : 

"Excuse  me — but  there  is  nothing  I 
like  so  well  as  camping  out.  I  heard  you 
talking  about  it,  and  I  spoke  without 
thinking." 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Guy,  moving  an 
empty  seat  near  him.  "  We  were  saying, 
if  we  could  stop  the  boat,  and  if  we  had 
a  line,  and  if  we  could  land  on  a  little 
island,  and  if  we  could  build  a  tent,  what 
we  would  like  to  do." 


Butterfly  at  Sea.  65 


"I  live  in  Montreal,"  said  the  boy, 
sitting  down,  "  and  every  summer,  in  the 
holidays,  my  father  sends  me  away  with 
my  tutor.  There  he  is,  don't  you  see 
him  ?"  pointing  to  a  short,  square-looking 
young  man,  dressed  in  light  clothes,  with 
a  tall  white  beaver.  "  I  can  tell  you,  he 
is  a  nice  young  man,  and  we  have  nice 
times  together.  We  fish,  and  hunt,  and 
camp  out.  I  will  show  you,  if  you  go  on 
to  Montreal.     Are  you  going?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Guy. 

"  I  am  very  glad.  I  go  over  here  every 
year.  My  father  says  I  may  go  to  Niagara 
until  I  am  tired  of  it — and  I  think  it  will 
be  every  year  as  long  as  I  live." 

"  So  would  I,"  said  Butterfly. 

The  boy  nodded  approval,  and  then 
said,  "  Here  we  go  into  Lake  Ontario  !" 


IV. 

LAKE     ONTAEIO. 

HEN  the  boy  said,  "  Here  we  go 

into  Lake   Ontario,"   Butteifly 

started   to  run  down  into   the 

cabin   for   Aunt   Bessie.      That   morning 

she  had  heard  the  stories  of  the  vessels 

being  sent  over  the  falls,  and  she  had  her 

thoughts  so  full  of  the   way   they   went 

tumbling  down,  that,  without  knowing  it, 

she  had  an  idea,  when  they  passed  from 

Niagara   river  into  Lake    Ontario,   they 

were   to   go  over  something  that  would 

set  the    boat    into    a    great  whirl,   and 

perhaps  upset  it ;   so  her  first   thought 

was  to  seek  Aunt  Bessie's  protection. 
(66) 


Lake  Ontario.  67 


"Where  are  you  going?"  said  Guy. 
"  Wait  and  hear  about  Lake  Ontario." 

By  this  time  Butterfly  had  looked 
around  her,  and  saw  nothing  but  a  smooth 
expanse  of  water,  the  lake  and  the  river 
running  together  without  the  least  per- 
ceptible change. 

"  I  thought,"  said  Butterfly.  And  then 
she  stopped  short. 

"  Thought  what  ?" 

"  That  something  was  coming !" 

"  So  there  is — or  rather  it  has  come. 
Here  we  are  now  in  Lake  Ontario,  and  I 
can  tell  you  a  great  deal  about  it.  I 
learned  it  on  purpose  last  night.  The 
Guide  Book  says : 

"  Lake  Ontario  is  a  wonderful  sheet  of 
fresh  water.  It  is  two  hundred  and  thirty- 
five  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  one 


68  Trip  to  Montreal. 


hundred  fathoms  deep,  two  hundred  miles 
long,  and  sixty  wide." 

"  Correct,  Mr.  Niles  would  say,"  said 
the  new-comer,  nodding  towards  his  tutor. 

"  In  crossing  it,  one  loses  sight  of  land 
altogether." 

"  How  nice !"  said  Butterfly,  clapping 
her  hands.  "  No  land  anywhere  to  be 
seen!     Won't  it  be  droll ?" 

"Yes,  if  it  is  pleasant,"  said  the 
stranger ;  "  but  if  a  storm  comes,  look  out, 
that  is  all !  I  was  on  board  once  when 
we  had  a  terrific  blow.  Mr.  Niles  said  he 
had  crossed  the  Atlantic  three  times,  and 
he  never  had  seen  anything  like  it.  I  tell 
you  what,  sir," — addressing  Guy,  who  liked 
to  be  called  sir — "  it  was  one  of  the  fiercest 
gales  that  ever  swept  this  lake.  Mr. 
Niles  says  a  storm  in  one  of  these  land- 


Luke  Ontario.  69 


locked  lakes  is  a  great  deal  more  danger- 
ous than  in  the  open  sea.  Even  the  big 
men-of-war  get  pretty  well  tossed  about." 

"  I  hope  we  sha'n't  have  any,"  said 
Butterfly,  looking  frightened. 

"  Nothing  that  looks  like  one,  I  will 
promise  you,  to-night.  Just  look  up 
there.  There  isn't  a  cloud  in  the  sky, 
and  the  wind  is  right  for  pleasant 
weather.  My  mother  has  always  been  a 
little  timid  about  me  since  that  time,  and 
Mr.  Niles  promised  her  not  to  go  on  to 
the  lake  unless  the  day  was  perfect. 
Niles  is  great  on  weather.  He  guesses 
right  nine  times  out  of  ten.  This  morning 
he  came  into  my  room.  '  Hal !'  said  he, 
1  everything  is  promising,  and  if  you  like 
we  will  start  to-day.'  That  is  one  thing 
I  like   about   my   tutor.     He  never  says 


70  Trip  to  Montreal 


you  must  and  you  must  not,  as  so  many  of 
them  have  done,  but  it  is  always,  '  Hal,  if 
you  please,'  '  Hadn't  we  better  T  or  some- 
thing that  makes  a  fellow  feel  like  a  man." 

"  That  is  the  way  my  father  does,"  said 
Guy.  "  I  don't  believe,  if  I  was  one 
hundred  years  old,  he  would  treat  me  any 
different  from  what  he  does  now." 

Hal  laughed.  "My  father  says,  'Ask 
Niles,'  '  Go  to  Niles,'  '  Do  as  Niles  says.'  " 

"I  never  had  a  tutor,"  said  Guy.  "I 
always  go  to  school.  I  am  an  only  child, 
you  see,"  he  added,  apologetically,  "  and 
my  father  says  nothing  will  be  easier 
than  to  spoil  me." 

"  I  am  an  only  son,"  said  Hal ;  "  but  J 
have  two  sisters,  one  older  than  I  am, 
and  one  as  large  as  she  is,"  pointing  to 
Butterfly. 


Lake  Ontario.  71 


"And  your  home  is  in  Montreal?" 
asked  Guy.  "  Then  you  are  a  subject  of 
Queen  Victoria." 

"  God  bless  the  Queen !"  said  Hal,  rais- 
ing his  odd-shaped  hat.  "Thank  fate, 
yes." 

Guy  wanted  to  say  he  did  not  think  be- 
ing a  subject  of  a  monarch  was  much  to 
be  thankful  for,  but  he  had  been  too  well 
brought  up  not  to  know  it  is  very  impolite 
to  express  a  contrary  opinion  unless  there 
is  a  special  reason  for  so  doing;  so  he 
looked  with  some  curiosity  at  a  boy  who 
was  a  subject,  having  in  his  wise  little 
head  no  idea  that  he,  Guy  "Harrington, 
was  other  than  a  free  man. 

"If  you  have  never  been  through  the 
lake  and  the  St.  Lawrence,"  went  on  Hal, 
without    thought    that    he   was   exciting 


72  Trip  to  Montreal, 


Guy's  pity,  "  you  have  a  treat  before  you  ; 
and  if,"  added  the  boy,  modestly,  "you 
will  take  me  for  a  guide-book" 


Guy  remembered  how  many  times  he 
had  been  Butterfly's  guide-book,  and  how 
pleasant  he  had  found  it ;  so  he  said, 
generously : 

"  There  couldn't  be  anything  we  should 
prefer.  I  do  so  love  printed  letters  com- 
ing out  of  the  mouth,  instead  of  off  from 
the  white  paper."  By  which  speech,  I 
suppose,  Guy  meant  to  say  he  had  rather 
be  taught  orally  than  in  any  other  way. 

"  There  is  a  little  girl,  as  big  as  you 
are,"  looking  at  Butterfly.  "  She  is  a  nice 
child,"  said  Hal.  "  Her  parents  live  in  the 
same  street  where  we  do,  in  Montreal. 
Her  father  is  Lord  John  Herbert.  I  have 
been  talking  with  her  ever  since  we  started 


Lake  Ontario.  73 


until  Niles  called  me,  and  said,  "  Hal, 
there  is  a  boy  you  will  like  to  know.  Go 
and  get  acquainted  Avith  lnm.  If  you 
have  no  objections,  I  would  like  to  bring 
her  here." 

"  Of  course,  do  by  all  means.  The 
more  the  merrier.  Butterfly  and  I  are 
always  making  new  friends.  There  were 
the  Nelsons  at  Niagara,  and  Bertie.  Ned 
was  a  good  fellow,  but  I  liked  Bertie 
rather  the  best,  and  we  are  to  go  to  school 
together  this  whiter." 

"Whbis  Butterfly?"  asked  Hal,  with- 
out taking  any  notice  of  Guy's  list  of  ac- 
quaintances. 

"  Why,  this  is  Butterfly,"  pointing  to  the 
child. 

"Keally  and  truly?" 

"  We  all  call  her  so," 


74  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"My  true  name,"  said  Butterfly,  "is 
Ellen  Courtland,  but  it's  Butterfly  too." 

"  Oh,  I  understand.  That  is  your  pet 
name." 

Butterfly  nodded  assent,  but  could  not 
help  wondering,  the  name  sounded  so 
familiar  to  her,  why  it  should  strike  others 
as  being  strange. 

"  That  little  girl's  name,"  continued 
Hal,  motioning  towards  the  child  he  had 
left,  "  is  Margaret.  I  like  the  name,  don't 
you?" 

"  I  like  Maggie,  or  Meg,"  said  Guy. 

"But  that  would  never  do."  And  the 
color  came  into  Hal's  face.  "  They  never 
say  so." 

"  Why  not  ?     Don't  they  love  her  ?" 

"  O  yes,  very  much.  Bat — but  " — hesi- 
tating, "  we  don't  do  so  in  Montreal," 


Lake  Ontario.  75 


"  Don't  you  ?"  said  Guy.  "  Then  I  am 
glad  I  live  in  New  York,  for  I  like  nick- 
names. Mine  is  so  short.  No  one  can 
say  anything  else.  Now,  if  it  had  been 
Nebuchadnezzar  or  Demosthenes  "■ 

"Or  Belshazzar,  or" said  Hal. 

"  Or,"  interrupted  Guy,  not  very  politely, 
"  *  By  the  help  of  God  I  have  leaped  over  a 
wall.'  My  father  says,  in  good  old  Puritan 
times,  a  boy  was  baptized  by  that  name. 
At  least  so  some  of  the  histories  say." 

The  children  all  laughed,  and  then  Hal 
went  to  call  Margaret,  who  was  sitting 
very  demurely  watching  them  from  an- 
other part  of  the  boat. 

After  a  few  minutes'  conversation  with  an 
elderly  lady  under  whose  care  the  child 
seemed  to  be,  he  returned  with  her,  and 
Guy  politely  gave  her  a  seat  near  Butterfly. 


76  Trip  to  Montreal. 


There  is  nothing  very  formal  in  chil- 
dren's introductions.  Not  a  half  hour  had 
passed  since  these  met  for  the  first  time, 
and  I  am  quite  sure  any  one  looking  on 
and  listening  would  have  supposed  they 
had  been  acquainted  all  their  lives. 

Margaret  was  a  good  specimen  of  a 
nice  English  child.  Buddy,  and  with 
beautiful  rounded  form,  every  movement 
•was  full  of  ease  and  grace.  Strong  and 
perfectly  healthy,  her  complexion  looked 
almost  like  a  painting  ;  and  as  for  her  eyes 
and  mouth,  as  Guy  sat  by  her,  seeing  how 
they  both  smiled,  and  how  much  sweet- 
ness there  was  in  them,  for  the  first  time 
since  he  had  known  Butterfly  he  thought 
there  could  be  in  the  world  somebody  else 
almost  as  beautiful. 

This  little  girl  was,  like  Hal,  dressed  in 


Lake  Ontario.  77 


a  way  which  seemed  peculiar  to  these 
American  children.  But  of  course  it  was 
only  the  more  pleasing  to  them. 

Margaret  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  thick 
brown  stuff,  with  a  large  flat  brown  hat, 
and  two  long  drooping  brown  feathers. 
Her  gloves  and  boots  were  of  precisely 
the  same  shade,  and  so  was  the  ribbon 
which  tied  the  ends  of  her  braided  hair. 

Butterfly  had  often  heard  fairies  called 
'Brownies,'  and  her  first  thought  when 
she  saw  this  child  was  that  she  must  be- 
long to  this  favorite  class  of  her  many 
dear  friends.  But  there  wTas  too  much  of 
the  little  human  child  in  the  way  Margaret 
entered  into  all  they  said  or  did  for  this 
fancy  to  stay  long  ;  so  before  the  boat  had 
passed  many  miles,  her  hand  somehow 
found  its  way  into  the  loving  clasp  of  the 


78  Trip  to  Montreal. 


English  girl's,  and  she  was  sure  they 
would  be  warm  friends  very  soon. 

I  must  say,  in  the  pleasiu-e  of  being  to- 
gether, they  forgot  the  lake  and  the  things 
that  were  to  be  seen ;  for  the  boat  had 
gone  past  several  points  of  interest  before 
Hal  remembered  he  was  the  guide-book. 
Even  then  he  was  recalled  to  it  by  hear- 
ing some  one  near  him  say,  "  There  is  a 
light-house." 

"  Plenty  of  light-houses  here  and  on  the 
St.  Lawrence,"  said  Hal,  "  and  not  much 
more  here.  You  see,  the  seeing  is  to  be 
done  after  we  reach  that  famous  river. 
Sailing  through  Lake  Ontario  is  like  going 
to  sea,  only  you  know  you  are  not  on  the 
ocean,  for  the  lake  is  quiet  as  now,  unless 
a  storm  comes,  and  then,  if  it  does,  as  I 
have  told  you  before,  look  out." 


Lake  Ontario.  79 


"  Where  ?"  said  Butterfly,  looking  round 
in  every  direction,  and  seeing  nothing  but 
here  and  there  a  distant  white  sail. 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  look  out  and  see. 
Only  if  you  went  rolling  about  here, 
there,  and  everywhere,  as  I  have  done  on 
board,  you  have  to  look  out  sharp  where 
you  put  your  feet." 

"  My  grandmother  was  wrecked  here 
once,"  said  Margaret. 

"Wrecked?  How  nice!"  said  Hal. 
"  Please  tell  us  all  about  it." 

"She  will.  Let  us  go  and  ask  her," 
said  Margaret.  And  then  the  children 
all  ran  across  the  boat  to  the  old  lady 
with  whom  Margaret  was  sitting  when 
Hal  called  her  to  join  them. 

"  Grandmamma,  we  want  to  hear 
about  your   shipwreck,"   said    Margaret, 


80  Trip  to  Montreal 


as   the   children   gathered   close    around 
her. 

"  And  these  are  your  little  friends — 
Americans,  I  presume,"  the  old  lady  said, 
holding  out  one  hand  to  Guy  and  one 
to  Butterfly.  "  How  do  you  do,  my  dears  ? 
Would  you  like  to  hear  my  story  ?" 

Such  a  kind,  beautiful  smile  came  over 
the  sweet  old  face,  that  Butterfly  at  once 
put  both  her  hands  into  the  one  extended 
towards  her  ;  and  then,  not  contented,  she 
lifted  it  to  her  mouth  and  softly  kissed  it. 

The  lady  smiled  again,  and,  drawing- 
Butterfly  close,  also  kissed  her  round,  red 
cheek. 

"  I  am  glad  my  Margaret  has  found  a 
playmate,"  she  said.  "  She  loves  com- 
pany, and  I  am  always  happy  when  the 
dear  child  is." 


Lake  Ontario.  81 


Margaret  took  the  hand  which  Guy  had 
dropped,  looking  very  lovingly  in  her 
grandmother's  face,  as  she  said  this. 

"  Two  little  girls  only,  now,"  said  the 
old  lady.  "  Once  I  had  four.  I  was 
going  to  see  one  of  them,  though  she  was 
a  woman  and  not  a  little  girl  then,  when 
I  was  shipwrecked. " 

"  Do  tell  us  all  about  it,  Lady  Herbert," 
said  Hal. 

"  I  was  going  to  Toronto,  to  see  my 
daughter,  Mrs.  Somers,  as  I  have  already 
told  you,"  began  the  old  lady.  "  We  had 
a  dark,  cloudy  afternoon,  the  wind  groan- 
ing through  the  ship's  rigging,  and  the 
waves  rising  higher  and  higher  every 
hour.  Our  captain  was  used  to  the  lake, 
and  did  not  feel  any  alarm.     He  said  we 

should  have  a  rough  blow,  and  it  would 
6 


82  Trip  to  Montreal 


make  those  who  were  not  used  to  the  sea 
pretty  sick ;  but  the  vessel  was  new 
strong,  and  well-manned.  So,  when  it 
came  time  to  go  to  bed,  he  ordered  us  all 
down  into  the  cabin,  and  said  he  would 
put  out  the  lights,  as  there  was  danger  of 
fire,  the  ship  rolled  so. 

"  Margaret's  mother  was  with  me.  She 
was  then  about  as  old  and  as  large  as 
Margaret  is  now,  and  we  came  down  the 
little  steep  stairs  of  the  ship  into  the 
cabin,  holding  on  to  everything  we  could 
find  to  help  us.  Margaret  was  pitched 
over  and  knocked  about  in  a  way  that 
would  have  hurt  her  at  any  other  time, 
but  she  didn't  mind  it  then.  She  saw  I 
was  alarmed,  and  so  she  tried  to  comfort 
me. 

"  '  Mother,'  she  said,  '  Jesus  can  be  on 


Lake  Ontario.  83 


these  waters  as  well  as  on   those  of  the 
Sea  of  Galilee,  can  he  not  ?' 

" '  Certainly,  Margaret.' 

"'And  isn't  he?' 

" '  Yes.' 


a  t 


Then   don't    let   us  be    afraid.     He 


will  take  good  care  of  us,  if  we  ask  him 
to.' 

''Now,  children,"  said  Grandmother 
Herbert,  stopping  and  looking  around,  "  I 
want  to  tell  you  how  much  those  few 
words,  comforted  me.  I  thought  Jesus 
must  be  very  near,  if  my  little  daughter 
could  feel  so  trustful  and  quiet,  and  I 
asked  our  Saviour  to  walk  on  the  stormy 
waters  that  night,  and  to  save  us,  lest  we 
perish.  Then  we  went  into  our  berths, 
and  after  lying  still  some  time,  Margaret 
put  her  head  down  (she  was  in  the  upper 


84  Trip  to  Montreal. 


berth),  and  said,  '  Mother,  is  Jesus  here 
still  ?'  and  I  said,  '  Yes,  my  child.' 

"  Then  the  wind  rose,  and  the  waves 
broke  against  the  sides  of  the  ship  as  if 
great  hands  were  striking  it  with  a 
giant  hammer.  There  were  other  pas- 
sengers on  board — I  think  fifteen  besides 
ourselves — and  we  were  all  fastened 
down  into  this  dark  little  cabin  together. 
It  was  like  a  tomb,  children,  and  it 
seemed  to  grow  darker  and  darker  as 
the  storm  increased.  None  of  the 
passengers  went  into  their  berths  but 
Margaret  and  I.  They  were  all  over  the 
floor,  sometimes  on  one  side  of  the  ship 
and  sometimes  on  the  other,  as  the  waves 
rolled  them  about.  Very  few  words 
were  spoken.  Now  and  then  we  heard 
a    groan    or    perhaps    a    short    prayer; 


Lake  Ontario.  85 


or,  I  am  very  sorry  to  say,  a  dreadful 
oath,  wrung  out  from  a  man  more  used 
to  swearing  than  praying  in  his  hour  of 
mortal  peril. 

"  It  so  happened  that,  when  Margaret 
asked  me  about  Jesus,  there  was  a  lull  in 
the  storm,  and  the  vessel  was  still.  I  did 
not  know  any  one  heard  her  or  my  answer, 
until  all  was  over. 

"  '  Then,  mother,'  she  added,  '  I  need 
not  be  afraid.' 

"  '  No,  my  darling,'  I  said.  '  Be  not 
afraid  :  it  is  I.' 

"  '  Is  that  what  Jesus  said  ?' 

" '  Yes.' 

"  Then  we  were  all  still,  and  then 
again  came  a  rush  of  wind  and  wave,  and 
my  little  girl  asked  once  more  : 

'"Mother,     is   Jesus    here   still?    He 


86  Trip  to  Montreal. 


won't  be  frightened  away,  and  leave  us, 
will  lie  ?' 

'"He  is  here,  darling.  Nothing  can 
separate  us  from  him.' 

"  '  Yes,  mother.' 

" '  Amen !'  said  a  man's  deep  voice 
from  somewhere  out  of  the  darkness. 
'  Little  girl,  I  thank  you.' 

"I  never  knew  how  many  hours  we 
spent  there.  It  was  so  dark  in  the  cabin 
that  nor.e  of  us  saw  the  day  dawn ;  but 
there  came  a  crash — an  awful  crash — and 
in  the  stiilness  that  followed  I  heard  once 
more  : 

"  '  Has  Jesus  gone,  mother  ?' 

" '  >Tc,  my  darling,  no.  He  is  nearer 
thpn   eve?    now.     Take  fast  hold   of  his 

fi '  7  Pes,   mother,     Let    me  take   yours 


Lake  Ontario.  87 


too.'  So,  as  I  tried  to  find  her  in  the 
dark,  the  dead-light  was  raised,  and  the 
day  came  streaming  down  into  our 
darkness. 

"  '  The  ship  must  be  cleared,'  said  a 
strong,  steady  voice,  speaking  through 
the  open  door.  '  Plenty  of  time  to  save 
you  all,  if  you  will  come  up  quietly  and 
orderly.  No  fainting  nor  screaming,  now. 
Let  the  women  come  first.  Order,  there  ! 
Steady,  now.' 

"  Something  in  the  quiet  of  the  voice 
told  upon  us  all.  We  went  up  without 
confusion  or  noise,  and  were  lowered,  one 
by  one,  into  the  long-boats,  which  were 
already  on  the  water. 

"  The  waves  were  still  high.  Our  boat 
rocked  about  so  unsteadily  that  no  one 
(iared  to  go  down  into  it, 


88  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"  '  Is  Jesus  there  ?'  asked  my  little  girl 


" '  Yes,  darling.' 


" '  Then  I  am  not  afraid.'  And  my 
Margaret  threw  herself  into  a  sailor's 
arms  who  was  waiting  for  her,  and  was 
the  first  one  to  be  safely  put  into  the 
unsteady  boat." 

"  That  was  my  mother,"  said  Margaret 
looking  proudly  round  upon  the  listening 
group. 

"  Then  I  followed,  and  the  other 
passengers  one  by  one,  until  the  boat  was 
full.  When  we  had  rowed  off  a  short 
distance  from  the  ship,  she  rolled  over 
heavily  on  to  her  side,  and  sank  slowly. 

" '  That  is  full  two  hours  before  the 
captain  expected  it,'  said  a  sailor,  as  the 
waves  closed  over  her.     'A  better  craft 


Lake  Ontario.  89 


than  the  Victoria  never  sailed  the  sea. 
Bad  hick  to  the  storm  !' 

"  '  Thank  God,  we  are  safe,'  said  the 
man  at  the  helm  of  our  boat.  '  Bow 
away  there,  men.  Put  her  ashore  at  the 
nearest  point.' 

"  So  they  did  ;  and  even  before  the  news 
of  the  wreck  reached  Toronto,  we  were 
there  to  tell  of  our  escape." 

"Jesus  was  with  you,  wasn't  he?"  said 
Butterfly.  "  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  were 
saved !" 

"  Jesus  never  forgets  those  who  trust 
him,"  said  Grandmamma  Herbert,  "  be 
they  young  or  old ;  and  sometimes  he 
puts  his  words  and  thoughts  of  comfort 
into  the  mouths  of  his  little  children, 
and  they  become  our  teachers  and 
comforters,      Children     should     be   very 


90  Trip  to  Montreal. 


pure  and  good  when  their  Saviour  singles 
them  out  so  to  bless  and  to  give  a  blessing, 
should  they  not  ?" 

"  My  mother  was,"  said  Margaret 
again,  more  fondly  than  proudly  now. 

"  There  it  is  !"  said  Guy,  abruptly.  The 
truth  is,  he  liked  the  story  better  than  the 
application.  Guy  was  not  fond  of  preach- 
ing, and  now  he  was  glad  of  the  diversion 
occasioned  by  the  sounding  of  the  dinner- 
gong. 

"Now  for  a  rush!"  he  said.  "Come, 
Butterfly.  I  peeped  in,  and  the  cabin  is 
so  small  it  will  be  a  perfect  jam.  Hurry, 
and  we  will  go  for  our  friends." 


V. 


A  NIGHT  IN  THE  BOAT. 


BUTTERFLY  had  never  taken  a 
meal  on  board  a  boat  before,  and 
she  was  therefore  very  much 
amused  and  interested  in  everything  she 
saw.  The  crowding  and  pushing  of 
the  passengers  rushing  from  the  deck 
in  order  to  insure  the  best  seats  and  the 
best  of  everything,  the  marked  dis- 
tinction which  appeared  at  once  between 
those  who  were  ladies  and  gentlemen 
and  those  who  were  not,  struck  her  with 
surprise,  child  as  she  was,  and  perhaps 
gave  her  a  better  lesson  on  the  importance 

(91) 


92  Trip  to  Montreal. 


of  early  acquiring  good  manners  than  she 
could  have  learned  from  any  other  source. 

Guy  had  gone  into  the  cabin  before  the 
rest  of  the  party,  and,  Avhen  Butterfly 
came  down,  she  saw  a  row  of  five  chairs 
turned  against  the  table,  Guy  walking- 
back  and  forth  behind  them,  as  if  he  was 
keeping  guard. 

As  soon  as  he  saw  the  ladies,  Guy  be- 
gan to  turn  back  the  chairs,  and  motioned 
to  them,  so  they  went  to  the  part  of  the 
table  where  he  was,  and  he  said  to 
Butterfly : 

"Sit  next  to  me,  do." 

Butterfly  was  so  intent  on  looking  that 
it  was  as  much  as  she  could  do  to  seat 
herself  in  any  way.  She  took  half  of 
Aunt  Bessie's  chair,  who  was  on  one  side 
of  her,  and  then  half  of  Guy's  when  she 


A  Night  in  the  Boat.  93 


tried  to  move  out  of  it,  until  Guy  laughed 
and  she  thought  what  she  was  doing. 

"  O  dear,  Aunt  Bessie !"  she  said,  "  I 
should  think  it  had  dropped  right  clown 
out  of  the  fairies'  palace." 

"  What  ?"   asked  Auut  Bessie,  smiling. 

"  Why,  everything.  Do  see  :  there  are 
peaches,  and  pears,  and  grapes,  and 
apples,  and,  how  funny,  all  those  little 
white  fans  perched  up  in  the  goblets,  like 
big  white  moths." 

"  Those  are  the  napkins." 

"I  know  it.  How  droll!  And,  why, 
there  is  candy !  Guy,  Guy,  there  really 
and  truly  is  candy  /" 

"  Didn't  you  ever  see  any  before  ?" 
asked  Guy,  much  amused. 

"  Not  for  dinner ;  and  there  is  a  big, 
bouncing  watermelon.     Well,   I   guess  I 


94  Trip  to  Montreal. 


am  very  hungry,"  said  Butterfly,  subsiding 
at  once,  and  becoming  very  quiet. 

"  So  am  I.  I  could  eat — oh,  there  is 
Hal !  I  wish  he  was  here.  See,  he  has 
dressed  for  dinner,  and  so  has  his  tutor. 
I  like  Mr.  Niles,  don't  you  ?  If  it  wasn't 
for  Bertie,  I  would  ask  my  father  to  let 
me  have  a  tutor,  and  I  wouldn't  go  to 
school,  but  I  must  now.  There  he  is 
coming.  I'll  crowd  a  seat  next  to  me. 
No,  that  isn't  necessary.  Mr.  Niles  has 
paid  the  waiter,  and  is  pointing  here. 
Now  you  will  see  him  walk  in  without  any 
trouble." 

"  Paid  !"  said  Butterfly.     "  What  for  ?" 
"  Why,  for  a  seat,  don't  you  know  ?" 
Butterfly  was  too  much  taken  up  looking 
for   Hal   to   answer.     She    could    hardly 
understand   the  way  in  which  the  waiter 


A  Night  in  the  Boat.  95 


moved  the  elderly  lady  and  gentleman 
from  the  place  they  had  already  occupied, 
putting  Hal  and  his  tutor  into  it,  as  if  it 
was  theirs  by  right. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come,"  said  Guy, 
cordially.  "  Sit  here  all  the  time,  won't 
you?" 

"Yes,"  said  Hal.  "  Let  us  be  firm 
friends  and  true  to  the  journey's  end." 

Then  the  boys  held  each  other's  hand  a 
few  minutes,  sealing  the  bond,  much  to 
Aunt  Bessie's  amusement. 

Such  a  clatter  of  dishes  tumbling  over 
the  table,  calling  to  waiters,  taking  every- 
thing within  hand-reach,  and  pushing  with 
spoons  to  take  hold  of  those  dishes  that 
were  not !  Such  confusion  and  bad 
manners  Butterfly  had  never  seen  before. 
I  think  she  must  have  gone  away  from  the 


96  Trip  to  Montreal. 


table  as  hungry  as  she  came,  for  she 
was  too  busy  looking  to  eat. 

Margaret  was  not  at  this  table  ;  and  as 
Butterfly  with  her  party  went  back  to  the 
deck  after  the  dinner  was  over,  she  saw 
her,  with  her  grandmother  and  a  few 
others,  seated  at  a  small  table  in  a  part 
of  the  saloon  which  was  curtained  off 
from  the  rest. 

"  That  is  because  her  father  is  Lord 
John,  I  suppose,"  whispered  Guy,  follow- 
ing the  direction  of  Butterfly's  eyes.  "  She 
is  too  good  to  eat  with  common  people." 

"  I  think  she  is,"  said  Butterfly,  simply. 
"I  love  her  dearly,  don't  you?" 

"  It  will  do  for  girls  to  love  every  pretty 
face  they  see,  dearly,"  said  Guy,  with 
what  he  thought  was  a  manly  shrug  of 
his  shoulders  ;  "  but  it  won't  for  us  boys." 


A  Night  in  the  Boat.  97 


"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Oh,  because  it  won't,"  answered  lie, 
conclusively.    "  That  isn't  our  style." 

Now,  Butterfly  had  only  a  very  vague 
idea  of  what  Guy  meant,  and  it  was  just 
as  well,  for  probably  that  was  all  Guy  had 
himself ;  and  as  for  its  making  any 
impression  upon  her  that  Margaret  was 
or  felt  herself  to  be  better  than  others 
because  she  was  a  lord's  daughter, 
Butterfly  was  so  truly  a  little  American 
girl  that  I  doubt  whether  she  even  knew 
what  a  lord  was. 

Dinner  was  at  three  o'clock,  so  that 
after  dinner  the  afternoon  seemed  to  the 
children  well  spent.  The  steamboat  was 
now  at  a  distance  from  land,  speeding 
away  over  the  still  blue  waters  as  fast  as 


98  Trip  to  Montreal 


steam  could  carry  her ;  and  as  there  was 
very  little  to  see,  they  went  together  into 
a  quiet  part  of  the  deck,  and  began  to 
divert  themselves  by  that  never-ending 
amusement,  story-telling.  Now  and  then 
Hal  would  call  out  that  there  was  a  town 
on  the  shore,  and  occasionally  a  boat,  a 
schooner,  or  a  ship  went  drifting  by  them ; 
but  their  main  occupation  was  with  their 
stories,  until  the  day  faded  away  and 
night  came  on, 

All  through  the  day  Butterfly  had 
singled  out  from  among  the  passengers 
two  who  interested  her.  One  was  a  pale, 
sickly-looking  young  lady,  almost  half  of 
whose  face  seemed  to  her  to  consist  in 
large  brown  eyes.  And  the  other  was  a 
German,  resembling,  she  thought,  her 
German  friend  who    had   travelled   with 


A  Night  in  the  Boat.  99 


her  from  Lake  George  and  then  given  her 
the  ticket  to  the  concert.  The  German  on 
board  the  boat  to-day  had  no  violin,  but 
Butterfly  felt  sure  she  heard  him  humming 
tunes.  The  lady,  too,  would  break  out 
into  a  line  of  a  song,  and  then,  as  if 
suddenly  recollecting  where  she  was, 
would  check  herself. 

When  it  became  too  dark  on  deck  to 
see  anything  but  the  sky  thick  with  stars 
overhead,  and  a  long,  dark  expanse  which 
Butterfly  knew  must  be  water  around 
them,  the  children  went  down  into  the 
brilliantly  lighted  saloon.  The  first  thing 
Butterfly  heard  was  music,  and  the  first 
thing  she  saw  was  the  German  sitting  at 
the  piano  playing,  and  the  lady  standing 
by  his  side  singing. 

"  I  knew,"  she  said,  turning  and  putting 


100  Trip  to  Montreal. 


her  arm  around  Margaret's  neck,  "  some- 
thing beautiful  was  coming.  I've  been 
looking  and  looking  at  them  all  day,  and 
here  it  is.  Where  is  Aunt  Bessie?  O 
dear,  where  is  Aunt  Matilda?  Guy,  run 
for  your  mother  ;  and  Hal,  you  bring  Mr. 
Niles ;  and  Margaret,  bring  your  grand- 
mother ;  and  then  I  guess  we  shall  be  all 
fixed.  We  are  going  to  have  a  real,  live, 
true  concert,  without  any  tickets  either !" 

Concerts  were  not  so  much  of  a  rarity 
to  the  other  children  as  they  were  to  But- 
terfly, so  Guy  said  : 

"  Oh,  they  will  come  if  they  fancy.  If 
these  people  are  going  to  play  a  very 
lively  tune,  I  should  like  it,  or  if  they 
sing  a  merry  song ;  but  if  it  is  what  they 
call  classical  music,  such  as  those  Germans 
usually  play,  I  wouldn't  give  a  fig  for  it." 


A  Night  in  the  Boat.  101 


It  was  what  Guy  rather  contemptuously 
called  "  classical  music,"  so,  after  listening 
a  little  while,  till  her  friends  had  joined 
another  party  of  children  in  a  distant 
part  of  the  saloon,  Butterfly  went  to 
see  what  was  going  on.  She  found 
them  engaged  in  a  play  that  was  en- 
tirely new  to  her,  so  she  sat  by  watch- 
ing, no  one,  not  even  Guy,  taking  any 
notice  of  her,  until  her  eyelids  began  to 
grow  very  heavy. 

If  you  had  told  her  she  was  sleepy,  I 
think  she  would  have  indignantly  denied 
it,  but  she  put  her  head  down  on  a  marble 
table,  and — well,  I  don't  know  as  she 
would  like  to  have  me  tell  tales,  but  I  am 
quite  sure  she  did  not  for  the  next  half 
hour  get  any  very  intelligent  idea  of  the 
game.     The  first  thing  of  which  she  was 


102  Trip  to  Montreal. 


conscious  was  Gay's   pulling   one   of  her 
curls,  and  saying  : 

"  Hullo,  Butterfly,  come  on  now,  we 
want  you !" 

"  We   want   you  !      O   yes — dear   me- 
yes — Aunt  Bessie — no.     "Who  is  it,  Guy  ? 
What?" 

"  I  do  declare,  I  believe  you  have  been 
asleep,"  said  Guy. 

"  Asleep !"  And  Butterfly  slid  down 
on  her  feet  in  a  minute,  rubbing  her  eyes 
violently.  "  I  haven't  been  asleep,  Guy 
Harrington.  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourself."  And  only  half  awake  now, 
Butterfly  felt  the  tears  coming  into  her 
eyes,  and  began  to  wipe  them  away  as 
fast  as  she  could. 

Guy  looked  at  her  in  much  amazement. 
During  all  the   time   they  had   been   to- 


A  Night  in  the  Boat.  103 


gether,  lie  had  never  seen  her  cry  or  heard 
a  fretful  word  from  her  before. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  he  said,  in  a  very  puzzled 
way. 

But  the  tears  had  washed  all  the  sleep 
away,  and  almost  before  the  words  were  out 
of  her  mouth  Butterfly  was  herself  again. 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  be  sorry,"  she 
said.  "  I  guess  I  was  cross  ;  I  am  some- 
times. Now  I  am  ready.  What  is  it  ?" 
And  really  refreshed  by  her  nap,  Butterfly 
entered  into  the  amusements  more  heartily 
than  any  of  the  other  children  for  the  re- 
mainder of  a  long  evening  ;  and  when, 
quite  late  for  a  little  miss  who  was  used  to 
early  hours,  Aunt  Bessie  came  to  say  it 
was  time  to  go  to  bed,  Butterfly  could 
hardly  believe  it  was,  as  she  said,  nearly 
ten  o'clock, 


104  Trip  to  Montreal. 


The  musicians  were  still  playing,  and 
though  many  of  the  groups  in  the  saloon 
had  disappeared,  yet  enough  remained  to 
make  the  scene  gay  and  cheerful.  I  do 
not  know  but  Butterfly  would  have  been 
willing  to  sit  up  all  night  if  she  could,  and 
if  Aunt  Bessie  would  have  kept  her  com- 
pany, but  her  aunt  led  the  way  directly  to 
the  state-room,  having  first  taken  up  a  bit 
of  a  tin  candlestick,  with  the  half  of  a  tal- 
low candle  in  it.  This  she  lighted  with  a 
match  when  she  weift  into  the  room  ;  and 
the  first  thing  Butterfly  did  was  to  sit  down 
and  laugh  at  the  funny  shadows  it  made 
on  the  wall.  Just  one  bit  of  a  tallow  can- 
dle was  a  new  light  for  her  to  use,  and 
perhaps  things  looked  a  little  droller  than 
they  really  were. 

"  Now,  Aunt  Bessie,"  said  Butterfly,  after 


A  Night  in  the  Boat.  105 


a  few  minutes'  silence,  "  we  must  have  our 
Saturday's  review,  you  know,  and  this  is 
the  nicest  place  to  have  it  in  I  ever  saw. 
I  thought  it  was  cunning  before  I  went  on 
deck,  and  I  think  it  is  a  great  deal  cun- 
ninger  now.  I  shall  sleep  as  sound  as  two 
tops,  you  see  if  I  don't ;  and  I  want  to  tell 
you  all  about  Margaret's  mother.  O  dear ! 
what  if  there  should  be  a  storm" — this 
was  the  first  time  Butterfly  had  thought  of 
the  possibility — "  and  it  should  make  the 
waters  rise  and  the  winds  blow,  and  they 
should  lock  us  all  down  in  a  dark  room, 
dark  as  pitch  ?  I  wonder  if  there  would 
be  any  little  girl  to  ask,  '  Is  Jesus  here, 
mother?'  and  then  the  mother  would  say 
so  pretty,  '  Yes,  darling.'  " 

"What  is  my  Butterfly  talking  about?" 
said  Aunt  Bessie,  looking  at  her, 


106  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"  Oli !  I  forgot.  Margaret's  grandmam- 
ma told  us  a  beautiful  story  about  being 
wrecked  on  this  very  lake ;  and  how  her 
little  girl  kept  comforting  everybody  by 
telling  them  about  Jesus,  and  how  a  man's 
voice  out  of  the  great  darkness  said  '  Amen.' 
I  should  have  been  frightened  almost  to 
death  ;  but  she  went  first  into  the  boat,  not 
a  bit  frightened,  because  she  thought  Jesus 
was  there  too ;  and  then  the  ship  went 
down,  and  the  water  went  over  it,  and 
Jesus  was  in  the  boat,  so  they  all  got  safe 
to  land." 

"  That  was  Margaret's  mother  and 
grandmother?"  asked  Aunt  Bessie,  much 
interested. 

"  Yes,  it  is  true,  too,"  Butterfly  said.  "  I 
like  the  true  stories  best.  I  had  better 
undress  me,  and  say  my  prayers  as  fast  as 


A  Night  in  the  Boat.  107 

I  can,  Aunt  Bessie,  so  to  be  all  ready  if 
a  storm  should  come  ;  but  I  guess  there 
won't,  don't  you  ?" 

"  There  is  every  prospect  of  a  beautiful 
night,"  said  Aunt  Bessie.  "  But,  darling, 
it  is  always  best  to  commit  ourselves 
to  the  care  of  a  loving  Saviour's  arms, 
to  feel  we  can  go  to  sleep  in  them  quietly, 
as  you  do  so  often  in  mine." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Butterfly,  reverently. 
"  I  think  Margaret  did,  that  is,  the  one 
that  was  little  Margaret  then.  Now  I'll 
say  my  prayers. 

Whether  Butterfly,  touched  by  the  sim- 
ple story  she  had  heard,  showing  her  how 
beautiful  the  trust  of  even  a  little  child 
can  be  in  her  Saviour,  determined  to  offer 
an  unusually  long  and  fervent  prayer  that 
ni^ht,  or  whether  she  was  so  tired  that 


108  Trip  to  Montreal. 


closing  her  eyes  even  for  a  moment  over- 
came her,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  know  that, 
after  waiting  in  stillness  for  some  time, 
Aunt  Bessie  looked  around  to  the  spot 
where  Butterfly  knelt,  and  found  her,  with 
her  head  in  her  little  folded  hands,  sound 
asleep. 


VI, 


THE   WOLF   STOEY. 


UNT  BESSIE  was  wakened  the 
next  morning  by  a  merry  laugh 
close  at  her  ears,  and,  opening 
her  eyes,  she  saw  Butterfly,  with  her  head 
hanging  over  the  side  of  her  berth,  hold- 
ing on  by  both  hands. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Bessie !"  she  said,  the  mo- 
ment she  saw  her  aunt's  eyes  were  open- 
ed, "  this  is  so  funny.  Dear  me,  I  thought 
I  was  at  Frostland,  up  in  my  room,  and 
when  I  opened  my  eyes,  here  I  was — such 
a  bit  of  a  place.  And  I've  slept  splendid- 
ly ;  and  I  want  to  hop  up  and  dress  me 

(109) 


110  Trip  to  Montreal 


just  as  quick  as  I  can.  I  dare  say  we've 
been  and  gone  through  those  thousand 
isles  while  I  was  sound  asleep ;  and " 
— -one  little  pink  foot  coming  over  the  side 
of  the  berth — "  I " — swinging  down  half 
over — "  want " — landing  on  the  floor,  for- 
getting she  was  at  sea,  and  getting  a  roll 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  state-room. 

"  To  pick  yourself  up,"  said  Aunt  Bes- 
sie, laughing,  and  finishing  the  sen- 
tence. 

"Yes,  ma'am."  And  Butterfly  scram- 
bled on  to  her  feet  in  a  moment,  coming 
with  a  lurch  up  against  Aunt  Bessie's 
berth,  who,  putting  out  both  arms,  held 
her  fast. 

"  I  think,"  said  Aunt  Bessie,  "  the  wind 
must  have  freshened  during  the  night,  or 
we  were  Hist  stopping." 


The   Wolf  Story.  Ill 


At  this  moment  the  steam-whistle  sound- 
ed, and  she  added  : 

"  Yes,  that  was  it :  we  were  stopping." 

"This  Montreal?"  asked  Butterfly. 
"Past  the  thousand  isles  and  all?" 

"  Probably  not  in  the  St.  Lawrence  yet, 
so  hurry  and  dress,  for  Gay  is  an  early 
bird,  you  know.  I  dare  say  you  will  open 
the  door  and  find  him  in  the  saloon  wait- 
ing for  you." 

Butterfly  hardly  needed  this  prompting, 
but  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  say 
which  moved  the  fastest,  her  fingers  or  her 
tongue,  as  she  dressed. 

"  I  should  like,  Aunt  Bessie,  to  read  a 
chapter  in  the  Bible,  this  morning,  out  of 
my  common  course.  I  don't  think  mother 
would  mind  it  just  for  this  once,  if  I  read 


112  Trip  to  Montreal. 


about  Jesus  on  the  water  instead  of  read- 
ing with  them  at  home.     Do  you?" 

"  No,  I  think  she  would  be  pleased  to 
have  her  little  girl  associate  Jesus  with 
the  water.  Let  us  look  at  the  chapter  to- 
gether.    Do  you  know  where  to  find  it  ?" 

"  I  know  the  story  all  about  Peter  and 
the  other  disciples  out  in  the  storm,  but  I 
guess  we  had  better  read  it.  I  like  Bible 
stories  best.  I  think  it  is  in  Luke  some- 
where, and  if  you  will  wait  I  can  find  it." 

Aunt  Bessie  waited  very  willingly  until 
the  toilet  was  finished,  then  Butterfly 
seated  herself  with  her  Bible,  and  after  a 
few  minutes  said  : 

"  It  is  in  Luke,  eighth  chapter,  beginning 
with  the  twenty-second  verse.  May  I 
read  it  aloud?" 

"  Do,  I  should  like  to  hear  it." 


The   Wolf  Story.  113 


Then  Butterfly  read  every  word  of  the 
chapter  slowly  and  carefully,  as  if  she 
was  enjoying  it.  Then  she  asked  Jesus  to 
be  with  her  all  day,  not  as  if  she  thought 
he  was  a  distant  Saviour  who  lived  away 
off  in  the  heavens  and  neither  saw  nor 
cared  for  a  little  earthly  child,  but  as  if  he 
was  a  near  friend  who  would  love  and 
bless  her. 

"  Now  good-by,  Aunt  Bessie,"  she  said, 
when  at  last,  ready  to  go  on  deck,  she 
came  to  kiss  her.  "  I  am  as  happy  as  a 
queen,  and  I  am  going  to  have  the  most 
splendiferous  time  that  ever  any  child  did 
have  ;  and  I  am  going  to  tell  Aunt  Ma- 
tilda good-morning,  so  }^ou  won't  see  me 
until  we  get  to  Montreal." 

"What,  not  at  breakfast-time?"  asked 
Aunt  Bessie,  kissing  her. 


114  Trip  to  Montreal, 


"  Oh,  breakfast-time  !  Are  we  to  have 
our  breakfast  here  too  ?  I'll  go  and  hunt 
up  Guy  this  very  minute,  and  tell  him  all 
about  it." 

No  sooner  had  Butterfly  opened  her 
state-room  door  into  the  saloon  than  Aunt 
Bessie  heard  noise  enough  to  assure  her 
a  party  of  children  were  awaiting  Butter- 
fly's appearance.  She  could  distinguish 
the  voices  of  Guy  and  Hal,  and,  she 
thought,  of  Margaret  also. 

"  She  will  be  happy  now,"  said  kind 
Aunt  Bessie,  smiling  all  alone  there  to 
herself  to  think  how  contented  Butterfly 
would  be. 

"  Well,  if  you  are  not  a  sleepy-head  !" 
was  Guy's  first  salutation.  "  Here  Hal 
and  I  have  been  waiting  twenty  minutes 
by  my  watch   for  you.     I  tell  you  what, 


The  Wolf  Story.  115 


you  would  have  got  a  drumming  up  if  I 
liadn't  been  afraid  of  waking  your  aunt. 
Margaret  has  been  on  deck  three  times 
and  has  come  back  for  you,  so,  old  lady, 
hurry !" 

"  Hurry !"  Butterfly  felt  as  if  she  could 
fly  just  as  easily  as  not,  if  her  wings  were 
only  of  the  kind  that  would  bear  her  up. 
She  skipped  along  over  the  saloon  and  up 
the  stairs  so  lightly  that  I  think  her 
motion  was  about  as  much  like  flying  as 
it  could  be,  considering  she  was  only  a 
little  girl. 

When  they  came  on  deck,  it  was  so 
early  in  the  morning  that  very  few  pas- 
sengers were  around.  The  ship  looked 
long,  clean,  and  empty.  Butterfly  could 
hardly  believe  it  was  the  same  place  that 
had    been    crowded    and    noisy    on    the 


116  Trip  to  Montreal. 


night  before.  Every  one  they  met  said 
"Good-morning"  to  them  so  cheerfully 
that  Butterfly  could  hardly  contain  her 
delight.  I  am  not  sure,  if  she  could  have 
done  as  she  liked,  but  she  would  have 
stopped  and  kissed  those  who  spoke. 

"  Now,"  said  Guy,  taking,  as  usual,  the 
control  of  the  party,  "  we  are  to  come, 
before  a  great  while,  into  the  river  St 
Lawrence." 

"We  are  in  it  now,"  said  Hal.  "Mr. 
Mies,  as  soon  as  he  found  I  had  been 
dubbed  Guide-book,  took  and  crammed 
me." 

"  Crammed  you !"  said  Butterfly,  grow- 
ing suddenly  very  sober.  "  What  is 
that?" 

"  Oh,  nothing  that  hurt.  When  he  tries 
to  make  me  "learn  a  good  deal  in  double 


The   Wolf  Story.  117 


quick,  lie  calls  it  '  cramming  me.'  That  is 
an  English  phrase,  I  suppose,"  looking  at 
Guy. 

"  We  use  it  a  little,  but  not  much,"  said 
Guy.     "  I  suppose  it   comes   from   cram- 


"  With  anything ;  and  I  would  not 
recommend  it  as  a  good  word  for  you  to 
copy,"  said  a  pleasant  voice  from  behind 
them.  Turning  round,  they  saw  Mr. 
Niles. 

"  I  think  it  means  just  the  same,  and 
sounds  better,  if  we  should  sa}^,  '  Gave  me 
all  the  information  he  could.'  Now,  Hal, 
let  us  hear  to  how  much  purpose  the 
'  cramming '  was.  But  first  look  there, 
children.  There  is  the  sun  rising.  See 
how  differently  it  looks,  coming  up  out  of 


118  Trip  to  Montreal 


its  water-bed,  from  what  it  does  rising  be- 
hind hills  or  from  a  long,  level  plain." 

The  children  turned  in  the  direction 
from  which  the  sun  was  rising. 

There  it  was  with  its  broad  yellow  disk 
just  above  the  water's  edge,  as  if  it  had 
been  in  for  a  morning  bathe,  and  was 
dressed  in  its  golden  robes  to  meet  the 
day.  All  around  the  little  waves  "  danced 
up  to  kiss  it,"  Butterfly  said.  And  I 
think  perhaps  they  did,  for  they  looked 
very  happy  and  bright  in  its  rays. 

"  There  is  not  a  finer  sight  in  this  world 
than  a  sunrise  at  sea,  my  father  says," 
said  Guy,  "  and  this  is  the  first  I  ever  saw. 
I  wish  my  mother  was  here."  Guy 
always  thought  of  his  mother  at  such 
times. 

"It  is  worth  any  one  seeing.     Let  us 


The   Wolf  Story.  119 


sit  clown  where  we  can  watch  it.  We  have 
a  great  deal  to  see  to-day  that  we  ought 
never  to  forget,  and  this  is  a  fine  begin- 
ning. 

The  children  all  gathered  around  Mr. 
Mies,  and  after  a  few  minutes  he  said : 

"Hal,   there   is    Kingston,    and   there 
also  is  Wolfs  Island." 

"  Kingston  and  Wolf's  Island,"  said  Guy, 
getting  up  and  looking  about  him  as  if  he 
had  been  watching  for  them  all  the  time. 
"What  is  it  called  Wolfs  Island  for? 
Now  for  a  story,  Butterfly.  It  is  one  of, 
the  Thousand  Islands." 

"  Yes,  and  I  think  it  is  one  of  the 
largest.  By  the  way,  to  begin  with,  there 
are  more  than  the  famous  one  thousand 
islands.  There  are  eighteen  hundred,  of 
all  si?es  and  shapes,  from   a  few  yards 


120  Trip  to  Montreal 


square  to  miles  in  length ;  and  if  you  like 

stories,  there  is  one,  or  one  can  be  easily 

made,    for   every  island   of   the  eighteen 

hundred. 

.    "O   Butterfly!"    said     Guy,   his   whole 

face  lighting   up  with  delight,  "won't  it 

be  jolly  ?" 

Butterfly  gave  her  head  such  a  number 
of  assenting  shakes  that  her  curls  flew 
about  as  if  a  lively  kitten  was  in  among 
them  playing.  Then  she  said,  "  Splendid !" 
and  then  Hal  and  Margaret  smiled,  as.  if 
they  thought  her  use  of  the  word  was  a 
very  funny  one. 

"Well  now,  about  Wolf's  Island?" 
asked  Gu}7. 

"First,  of  Kingston,"  said  Mr.  Niles, 
looking  at  Hal. 

"Yes,    information     first,     amusement 


The   Wolf  Story.  121 


afterwards.  That  is  what  my  father  says, 
sir,"  said  Gay.  "  I  like  them  both,  and 
pretty  well  mixed." 

"  Kingston  used  to  have  a  queer  Indian 
name,"  Hal  began.  "  I  shouldn't  like  to 
try  to  pronounce  it,  so  I  will  spell  it  for 
you,  and  you  can  call  it  anything  you 
please.  C-a-t-a-r-a-c-q-u-i.  The  French 
once  owned  it  —  that  was  when  they 
owned  Canada — and  here  they  built  a 
fort.  Then  the  French  and  the  Indians 
used  to  try  and  see  who  should  own  it. 
Sometimes  one  did,  and  sometimes  the 
other ;  but  by-and-by  it  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  English,  and  then,  of  course,  there 
was  no  more  question  to  whom  it  should 
belong."  said  Hal,  drawing  himself  up, 
proudly. 

Guy  saw  the  feeling  in  a  moment,  so  he 


122  Trip  to  Montreal 


said  quietly :  "  There  wouldn't  have  been 
if  America   had  taken  it.     You  changed 

the   name   from   Cata something   to 

Kingston,  in  honor  of  your  king,  I  sup- 
pose." 

"  Yes,  and  now  it  is  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant military  posts  in  Canada." 

"  I  understand.  Quite  a  little  city,  is  it 
not  ?"  And  Guy,  accustomed  to  crowded 
New  York,  looked  upon  it,  as  he  said,  as  a 
very  little  place.    "  Now  for  the  wolf  story." 

A  look  passed  between  Hal  and  his 
tutor,  which  Guy  noticed.  And  then  Hal 
began : 

"That  island,  you  see,  is  long  and 
narrow.  Well,  about  half  way  down 
you  will  find  an  odd  house.  It  was 
built  a  hundred  years  ago,  I  think,  and 
there    once    lived   a  Frenchman,   whose 


The   Wolf  Story.  123 


name  was  Edward  La  True.  O  no !" 
said  Hal,  stopping  a  moment.  "  He  lived 
on  another  island.  Here  lived  an  Indian 
family,  belonging  to  the  tribe  that  once 
owned  Cataracqivi.  There  was  the  father, 
who  was  a  famous  hunter." 

"  That's  good,"  said  Guv,  approvingly. 

"  And  the  mother,  who  did  all  the  work, 
and  supported  the  family  besides  by  sell- 
ing trinkets." 

"  That's  bad,"  said  Guy. 

"  And  four  pickaninnies." 

"What  are  those?"  asked  Margaret. 

"  Children,  of  course.  Pickaninny  is 
an  Indian  name  for  a  child.  The  family 
lived  all  alone  on  this  island.  And  it  was 
so  full  of  game  of  all  kinds  that,  if  the  fa- 
ther had  been  willing  to  take  a  little 
pains,   he    might    have    gotten   together 


124  Trip  to  Montreal 


more  than  they  could  live  on,  without  the 
least  trouble." 

"  Lazy  fellow,"  said  Guy. 

"  But  he  used  to  trade  off  what  game  he 
took  for  liquor,  and  come  home  beastly 
drunk,  to  abuse  his  wife  and  children." 

"  He  should  have  joined  a  temperance 
society,"  said  Guy. 

"He  didn't.  He  looked  like  a  prince 
when  he  was  sober ;  and  he  felt  like  one 
when  he  was  not,  that  is,  he  ordered 
his  wife  and  children  about,  as  if  he 
was  a  world  better  than  they  were,  and 
sometimes  they  had  a  very  hard  time  of 
it.  One  day  he  came  home,  and  told  his 
wife  to  send  Big  Eye — that  was  his  eldest 
boy — off  to  a  distant  part  of  the  island, 
for  some  game  he  had  killed  and  was  too 
lazy  to  bring  home." 


The   Wolf  Story.  '  125 


"  Did  lie  go  ?"  asked  Guy. 

"  O  yes !  He  went,  and  tliey  waited 
and  waited  and  waited;  but  he  didn't  come 
back.  His  father  was  hungry  and  very 
cross,  so  when  the  sun  began  to  go  down, 
and  there  was  no  Big  Eye,  he  looked 
scowling  enough,  took  up  his  bow  and  ar- 
row, and  without  saying  a  word  went  out. 

He  was  gone  all  night ;  and  when  the  day 
broke,  there  was  the  mother  sitting  on  the 
ground,  looking  out  in  one  direction,  just 
as  she  had  been  doing  since  dark;  for 
soon  after  Big  Eye's  father  went  away, 
she  heard  a  sound  which  she  knew  very 
well  was  the  cry  of  a  wolf  near  by." 

"  What  did  it  sound  like  ?"  asked  But- 
terfly, coming  closer  to  Hal. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  have  never  heard 
one.    It  was  between  a  lion's  roar,  a  tiger's 


126  Trip  to  Montreal 


growl,  and  a  hyena's  call,  I  imagine. 
Something  dreadful,  at  any  rate.  Now, 
she  knew  the  wolves  on  the  island  were 
very  large  and  fierce,  and  she  had  heard 
her  husband  say  often  that  he  thought  a 
child  would  be  in  great  danger  from  them, 
they  were  so  wily  and  determined.  She 
was  afraid  Big  Eye  had  been  eaten  by  one, 
and  his  father  was  in  danger  from  the  same. 
As  soon  as  she  could  see,  she  took  down  a 
bow  and  a  quiver  of  arrows,  and  off  she 
started  to  help  them.  The  island,  as  you 
see,  is  a  very  large  one,  but  she  knew 
where  the  trails  were  which  they  would 
be  likely  to  follow,  so  away  she  went,  as 

brave  as  a  " 

"  There  is  some  one  wants  you,  Guy." 
"It's  my  mother,"  said  Guy,  and  went 
at  once,  in  the  midst  of  the  wolf  story. 


VII. 


THE   ST.   LAWRENCE. 

TJY'S  mother  said  to  him,  as  soon 
as  they  were  in  another  part  of 
the  boat : 

"  Guy,  I  am  sorry  to  call  you  away ; 
but  there  is  an  old  lady  here  in  trouble 
about  some  lost  luggage.  I  thought  you 
might  help  her  by  looking  it  up." 

"  Hal  was  telling  me  a  first-rate  wolf 
story,"  said  Guy,  annoyed  when  he  heard 
for  what  he  was  wanted.  "Wouldn't  it 
do  as  well  by-and-by  ?" 

"  I  think  not.  She  has  mislaid  a  bas- 
ket, and  I  presume,  from  her  anxiety,  it 

(127) 


128  Trip  to  Montreal 


contains  something  she  would  be  sorry  to 
lose." 

"  O  dear  !  mother,  am  I  the  only  boy 
in  the  world,  that  I  must  do  every  old  wo- 
man's running  that  comes  in  your  way  ?" 

"  You  are  my  only  boy,"  said  Guy's 
mother,  looking  kindly  in  his  troubled 
face  ;  "  but  if  it  is  so  very  irksome  to  you 
to  do  a  kind  thing,  I  will  call  one  of  the 
waiters." 

"It  isn't  that,  mother,"  said  Guy,  in- 
stantly ashamed  of  his  pettislmess,  "  and 
I  am  sorry  for  being  so  impolite  as  to  call 
her  an  old  woman.  I  will  go  at  once ; 
but  I  do  wish  I  had  heard  the  end  of 
Hal's  story.  The  mother  was  just  off 
with  her  bow  and  arrow  for  the  wolf,  that 
was  growling  and  eating  up  her  husband 
.rid  son  at  the  same  time.     The  old  fellow 


The  St.  Lawrence.  129 


was  selfish,  and  I  don't  much  care  for 
him ;  but  I  dare  say  Big  Eye  was  a 
nice  fellow." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  per- 
son who  had  lost  her  basket,  and  Guy 
was  quite  himself  again  ;  but  the  old  lady  ! 
Guy  felt  as  if  she  ivas  an  old  woman, 
without  any  of  the  lady,  as  he  looked  at 
her. 

She  was  large,  with  great,  coarse  fea- 
tures, a  mottled  complexion,  and  eyes  so 
small  and  nearly  shut  up  by  her  fat 
cheeks  that  all  Guy  could  think  of,  when 
he  first  saw  her,  was  of  a  muskmeloo, 
with  eyes  set  in  its  ridges. 

As  soon  as  she  saw  him,  she  said,  and 
her  voice  was  loud  and  disagreeable  : 

"  That  is  the  little  chap,  is  it  ?  Well,  he 
isn't  much  more  than  knee  high  to  a  toad  ; 


130  Trip  to  Montreal 


but  if  he  lias  got  eyes  in  his  head,  perhaps 
he'll  do." 

Guy  felt  the  color  mount  over  his  face, 
and  knew  the  hot  temper  that  was  flash- 
ing through  his  veins  had  shown  itself 
there. 

" '  Knee  high  to  a  toad,  and  got  eyes  in 
his  head !'  A  pretty  way  to  receive  a 
favor !"  he  said  to  himself. 

If  Guy's  mother  had  not  just  then  laid 
her  hand  gently  on  his  shoulder,  I  think 
he  would  have  turned,  and  without  another 
word  gone  back  to  his  story ;  but  gentle  as 
the  touch  was,  it  quieted  him  at  once,  and 
he  said,  with  a  self-control  for  which  his 
mother  gave  him  great  credit : 

"  I  am  not  very  old  ;  but  if  there  is  any- 
thing I  can  do  for  you,  I  shall  be  happy 
to  do  so." 


TJie  St.  Lawrence.  131 


The  woman  looked  at  him  sharply  from 
out  of  those  little  eyes,  then  said,  curtly : 

'■  You'll  do.  You'll  find  it,  if  it  is  on 
board,  I'll  venture  you.  It's  a  hand-bas- 
ket, made  by  the  Indians  —  blue,  and 
red,  and  green,  one  of  their  brightest 
ones.  I  had  it  made  on  purpose  to  know- 
it  from  other  people's.  So  the  first  thing 
I've  done,  you  see,  is  to  lose  it.  It  holds 
nearly  a  half-bushel,  and  is  pretty  heavy. 
It  has  a  large  card  on  it,  with  my  name, 
Mrs.  John  Ragort.  I'll  be  much  obliged 
to  you  if  you  can  restore  it  to  me." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,"  said  Guy,  "  but 
there  is  a  great  deal  of  luggage  on  board ; 
and  I  saw  quite  a  row  of  these  large  In- 
dian baskets.  They  are  so  convenient, 
almost  everybody  who  goes  to  Niagara 
purchases  one." 


132  Trip  to  Montreal 


"  How  like  liis  father  !"  sad  J  his  mother, 
watching  him  with  much  pride  as  he  went 
away  in  the  direction  of  the  luggage-room. 

To  hunt  up  lost  luggage  on  board  a 
crowded  steamboat  is  not  a  very  pleasant 
task.  Guy  had  travelled  enough  to  know 
he  must  encounter  all  kinds  of  obstacles 
thrown  in  his  way  by  every  official  who 
had  any  care  on  board;  and  so  he  did, 
but  at  last  he  was  successful,  and  came 
back,  bringing  the  very  gay  basket  to  its 
owner. 

"  I  told  you  you  would  find  it,"  she  said, 
by  way  of  thanks.  And  Guy  thought  she 
seemed  quite  as  pleased  with  the  idea  of 
her  own  prophecy  having  proved  correct 
as  by  the  return  of  the  basket.  At 
any  rate,  these  were  all  the  thanks  he 
received ;  but  he  heard  her   say,  as  he 


The  St.  Lawrence.  133 


walked  quickly  back  to  Lis  young  friends, 
"  That  little  fellow  will  make  a  man,  if  he 
ever  lives  to  grow  up.  He's  a  mighty 
sight  like  my  Josiah  ;  and  Josiah  owns  one 
of  the  biggest  farms  in  Illinois  to-day, 
and  has  about  the  largest  drove  of  hogs 
in  the  State." 

Guy's  mother  with  Aunt  Matilda  and 
Aunt  Bessie  were  now  on  deck,  walking 
up  and  down,  and  looking  out  the  different 
points  of  interest  from  a  long  panoramic 
guide-book  which  they  had  just  pur- 
chased. As  Guy  passed  them,  his  mother 
said : 

"  I  see  you  have  been  successful. 
Thank  you,  my  son  !"  And  then  Guy  felt 
more  than  repaid. 

"  She  says,  mother,"  he  said,  pointing 
carefully  back  in  the  direction  where  the 


134  Trip  to  Montreal 


old  lady  was,  "  I'll  do.  I  am  like  Josiah, 
who  has  the  largest  drove  of  hogs  in  the 
State  of  Illinois."  Then  with  a  merry 
laugh  he  joined  his  young  companions. 

"  Now,  let  me  hear  about  Big  Eye 
and  the  wolf,"  he  said.  "  I  hope  you 
waited  for  me." 

"  No,  I  did  not,"  answered  Hal,  "  be- 
cause the  story  was  all  gammon.  There 
wasn't  a  word  of  truth  in  it,  and  Mr.  Niles 
says  it  was  very  poor  at  that." 

"  You  are  a  most  reliable  guide,"  said 
Guy,  laughing. 

"  But  there  was  an  end,"  said  Butterfly, 
"  if  it  wasn't  true.  The  mother  shot  the 
wolf ;  and  then  she  found  Big  Eye  hid- 
den under  a  big  rock — Hal  pointed  it  out 
to  us  as  we  sailed  by  —  so  frightened 
that  he  hadn't  dared  to  move,  hardly  to 


The  St.  Lawrence.  135 


breathe,  lest  the  wolf  should  find  out  he 
was  there  and  eat  him.  He  was  so  glad 
when  he  heard  the  arrow  go  whir,  whir, 
through  the  air,  and  saw  the  wolf  fall 
dead." 

"  And  the  father,"  said  Guy, "  the  selfish 
old  fellow?" 

"  Oh,  he  was  saved  too.  The  wolf  had 
just  got  one  claw  on  him,  and  his  mouth 
all  open  to  take  a  big  bite,  when  whir, 
whir,  went  the  arrow,  and  away  he  went 
after  it." 

"  That  is  all,  is  it  ?  Well,  that  will  do 
for  a  make-up  wolf  story.  Now,  let  us 
hear  some  true  ones  about  these  islands. 
Oh !  look  there.  Isn't  that  a  beauty  ? 
See,  it  is  wooded  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  and  there  in  the  midst  is  an  old 
pine-tree  that  must  have  been  struck  by 


136  Trip  to  Montreal. 


lightning  some  day.  It  looks  like  the 
mast  of  a  man-of-war." 

"  That  is  prettiest,  though,"  said  But- 
terfly, pointing  to  a  bit  of  greensward 
that  looked  like  an  emerald  dropped  on 
the  smooth  top  of  the  water.  "  Oh  !  I  do 
wish  the  boat  would  stop  just  long  enough 
for  me  to  build  a  baby-house  on  it." 

"  You'll  wish  so  of  every  pretty  island 
all  the  way  to  Montreal,"  said  Guy. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Butterfly. 

"And  if  the  boat  were  to  stop;  only 
think  what  a  bother  there  would  be  on 
board,"  said  Hal. 

"Why?"  asked  Butterfly. 

"  Why,  do  you  suppose  all  these  men 
and  women  care  anything  about  baby- 
liouses  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Butterfly,  truthfully. 


The  St.  Lawrence.  137 


"  I  should  like  to  explore  fifty  out  of  the 
eighteen  hundred,"  said  Guy.  "  Hunt  up 
the  animals  and  the  brooks." 

"It's  famous  hunting  and  fishing  almost 
anywhere  you  choose  to  land,"  said  Hal. 
"  Mr.  Niles  and  I  always  camp  out  through 
the  month  of  September,  and  wre  never 
have  been  twice  on  the  same  island. 
Look  there  —  see  that  towTer.  That  is 
Martfield  Tower." 

"What  is  it  built  for?"  asked  Mar- 
garet. 

"  For  some  good  purpose,  you  may  be 
sure,  for  there  is  the  English  flag  flying 
from  it.  It's  on  Cedar  Island — named 
for  its  beautiful  cedars — and  there  is  a 
village  a  little  distance  from  it." 

"  And  two  villages  on  the  American 
side  to  one   on   the   English,"  said  Guy, 


138  Trip  to  Montreal. 


good-naturedly,  pointing  to  some  clusters 
of  houses  near  the  shore. 

"  Is  this  Lake  Ontario  now  ?"  asked 
Butterfly,  suddenly.  "  I  thought  the  Thou- 
sand Isles  were  in  the  river  St.  Lawrence. 
Dear  me,  how  I  have  it  all  mixed  up ! 
We  were  in  Niagara  river,  and  then  Hal 
said,  '  Here  we  go  into  Lake  Ontario  !' 
And  then  I  have  not  heard  anybody  say, 
'  Here  we  go  into  the  river  St.  Lawrence.'  " 

"  One  would  think  Butterfly  expected 
some  great  change,"  said  Guy.  "  What 
do  you  expect?" 

Butterfly  hung  her  head — she  would 
not  like  to  have  confessed  just  what  she 
did,  and  she  couldn't  say  anything  unless 
it  was  the  truth.  Guy  was  afraid  he  had 
hurt  her  feelings,  so  he  drew  his  stool  a 
little  closer  to  hers,  and  whispered  ; 


The  St.  Laivrence.  139 


"  I  didn't  mean  to." 

"  You  didn't,"  answered  Butterfly,  un- 
derstanding him  at  once  ;  and  then  she 
caught  sight  of  a  lighthouse  just  before 
her,  and  forgot  everything  else  as  she 
eagerly  pointed  it  out. 

"That?"  said  Hal,  looking  in  the  di- 
rection of  her  finger.  "  Why,  that  is 
only  a  lighthouse.  You  see,  there  are  so 
many  rocks  and  so  man}r  islands." 

"  Or  the  other  way,"  interrupted  Guy. 

"  Or  the  other  way,"  repeated  Hal, 
good-naturedly.  "  There  must  be  some 
method  of  warning  mariners  where  the 
rocks  or  the  islands,  with  their  rock- 
bound,  shelving  shores,  are ;  and  the 
safest,  indeed  the  only  way  of  warning  is 
by  these  lighthouses." 

"I've    seen    numbers    of    them,"    said 


140  Trip  to  Montreal. 


Margaret,  "but  the  finest  one  was  the 
Eddystone  Lighthouse.  We  passed  that 
once  in  a  storm." 

"  Where  is  it  ?"  said  Guy. 

"  Oh,  it  is  over  by  the  English  shore,  on 
the  south  coast  somewhere.  This  is  so 
small  in  comparison,"  pointing  to  the  one 
they  were  now  passing. 

"  This  is  a  little  house,"  said  Butterfly, 
looking  at  it  curiously,  "  just  like  a  tower, 
with  a  belfry  and  all  windows." 

"  That  is  just  it,"  answered  Hal ;  "  and 
where  it  is  all  windows,  there  they  put  a 
big  light,  which  keeps  turning  about  all 
night,  and  when  the  sailors  see  it  turn 
they  say,  '  Here  is  such  and  such  a 
lighthouse  ;  and  close  by  it,  on  the  right 
hand,  is  a  reef  of  rocks,  and  north  of  it 
lie    the    five    islands,    clustered    so    close 


The  St.  Lawrence.  141 


together  that,  if  we  get  in  among  them, 
there  will  be  no  getting  out  with  our 
bones  whole.'  " 

"  Bones !  Why,  I  thought  you  were 
talking  about  a  ship,"  said  Butterfly. 

"  And  they  speak  of  the  ribs  of  a  ship, 
don't  they,  I  should  just  like  to  know?" 
said  Guy. 

Hal  smiled,  but  went  on  with  his  ex- 
planation. "  The  government  hires  people 
to  live  in  these  lighthouses,  and  take  care 
of  the  lamp,  to  see  that  it  never  goes  out 
after  dark." 

"I  should  love  to  live  there  dearly," 
said  Butterfly,  going  to  the  side  of  the 
boat  nearest  the  lighthouse  and  looking 
out.  "  Do  look !  There  is  the  nicest 
little  garden,  with  some  real,  live  flowers, 


142  Trip  to  Montreal 


and  a  dog;  and— 0  dear!  Guy,  there  is 
truly  a  little  girl,  too." 

"  Let  us  wave  our  handkerchiefs  at  her," 
said  gallant  Guy.  And  away  went  the 
four  handkerchiefs,  fluttering  towards  the 
little  girl,  who,  never  supposing  they  were 
intended  for  a  salute,  stood,  with  her  feet 
Avide  apart,  staring  at  them. 

The  sail  among  the  Thousand  Islands, 
though  at  first  it  seems  as  if  nothing 
could  ever  be  more  delightful,  becomes 
wearisome.  Passing  through  them  for 
once,  and  once  only,  it  is  impossible  to 
distinguish  or  to  remember  one  from 
another.  They  are  of  all  shapes  and 
sizes,  as  I  have  said  ;  but,  after  all,  there 
must  be  something  besides  wood,  rock,  and 
land  to  imprint  them  on  a  child's  memory 
so  that  they  shall  not  be  forgotten^    One 


the  St.  Lawrence.  143 


of  these  groups  seemed  to  Hal  particularly 
worthy  of  notice  for  this  story,  to  which, 
while  he  was  telling  it,  the  children 
listened  with  much  interest : 

"  Once  while  there  was  some  political 
trouble  in  Canada,  one  of  the  prime 
movers  of  the  rebellion  was  captured, 
escaped,  and  took  refuge  among  this  group 
of  islands.  There  was  a  large  price  set 
upon  his  head,  so  a  great  many  persons 
were  out  in  pursuit  of  him,  anxious  to 
obtain  the  money. 

"  Well,  they  got  word  that  he  was 
hidden  among  these  islands,  and  they  de- 
termined they  would  capture  him ;  the 
poor  man,  when  he  found  his  retreat  was 
known,  hadn't  the  least  idea  in  the  world 
that  he  could  escape.  He  gave  himself 
up  for  lost,  and  was  sitting  one  day  hidden 


144  Trip  to  Montreal. 


under  that  very  rock  there  " — pointing  to  a 
rock — "  when  he  saw  a  boat  pushed  to  shore 
near  by  and  a  young  girl  jump  out.  At 
first  he  thought  he  must  hide,  but,  looking 
a  little  more  closely,  he  saw  it  was  his 
young  daughter,  Lucy.  He  knew,  of 
course,  that  she  had  come  to  find  him,  so 
he  stole  out  under  cover  of  the  bushes, 
until  he  told  her  by  signs  to  come  to 
him. 

"  Then  she  came  to  him,  hiding  as  he 
had  under  bushes  and  rocks,  so  not  to  be 
seen  if  she  had  been  previously  tracked  ; 
and  when  she  reached  him  " 

"  She  kissed  him,"  said  Guy,  looking 
provokingly  at  Butterfly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Butterfly,  innocently. 

"  I  doubt  whether  she  had  time,"  con- 
tinued Hal.     "  She  came  to  warn  him  that 


The  St.  Laivrence.  145 


his  retreat  had  been  found  out,  and  to 
carry  him  away  to  another  place." 

"  She  !  How  could  a  young  girl  ?"  asked 
Guy,  in  much  surprise  and  with  some 
contempt. 

"  That  was  the  very  beauty  of  the  thing. 
She  was  such  a  young  girl  that  no  one 
suspected  her  of  so  much  daring.  She 
had  always  been  a  pet  of  her  father's,  and 
lie  was  very  fond  of  bringing  her  among 
these  islands  for  pleasure,  so  she  had 
learned  every  channel  and  was  a  bold 
oarswoman. 

"Now,  for  weeks  she  came  at  night, 
and,  when  no  eve  could  see  her,  conveyed 
her  father  from  one  place  to  another, 
baffling  every  pursuer,  until,  tired  of  hunt- 
ing for  him  in  vain,  the  authorities  gave 

him  up,  and  he  escaped." 
10 


146  Trip  to  Montreal 


"  0  dear !  how  I  wish  I  could  row !" 
said  Butterfly,  looking  longingly  towards 
the  islands. 

"  I'll  teach  you  when  you  come  to  see 
us,"  said  Guy.  "  My  father  owns  a  boat 
on  the  Hudson,  and  I  go  out  just  when  I 
please." 

"  Do  you  row  ?"  asked  Hal. 

"  Of  course  I  do." 

"  Then  we  will  have  a  harbor  row  when 
we  get  to  Montreal,"  said  Hal,  gayly. 
"  There  is  Ogdensburg." 


VIII. 


THE     EAPIDS. 

T  Ogdensburg  our  travellers 
changed  the  large  and  commo 
+v*™  dious  steamboat  in  which  they 
had  sailed  through  Lake  Ontario  for  a 
smaller  boat,  made  expressly  for  the  St. 
Lawrence  passage.  There  was  so  much 
bustle  during  the  change,  that  Hal  could 
not  gather  his  party  together  to  tell  them 
about  this  town  until  they  were  once  more 
on  their  way.  Even  then  he  had  to  call 
several  times  before  he  could  draw  them 
towards  the  point,  from  which  they  could 
catch  a  last  view  of  the  town  as  they 
rapidly  left  it. 

(1471 


148  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"  I  want  to  tell  you,"  he  said  then,  as 
they  huddled  together  in  the  stern  of  the 
boat,  with  the  pretty  town  rising  behind 
them,  "that  'way  back,  in  1748" 

"  More  than  a  hundred  years  ago,"  said 
Guy. 

"  Yes,  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago, 
Abbe  Francois  Piquet  came  over  here  as 
a  missionary  to  the  Iroquois  Indians. 
You  see,  here  is  where  the  Oswegatchie 
river  empties  into  the  St.  Lawrence ;  and 
just  in  such  places  the  Indians  love  to 
congregate.  He  built  a  fort,  and  did  a 
great  deal  in  the  way  of  teaching  the  In- 
dians ;  but  they  got  to  fighting,  and  that 
ended  the  whole — that  was  for  the  time. 
The  white  people  had  found  it  would 
be  a  beautiful  place  to  live  in,  and 
came  back  to  it  in  due  time." 


The  Rapids.  149 


"  Then,  what  makes  it  chiefly  interest- 
ing is,  because  it  was  begun  as  a  mission- 
ary settlement,"  said  Guy. 

"  Yes,  and  that  is  worth  knowing." 

"Of  course  it  is.  My  father  says  no 
knowledge  is  ever  lost.  Butterfly,  where 
are  you  flying  to  now?" 

Butterfly,  without  stopping  to  answer, 
ran  quickly  across  the  boat,  the  children 
following. 

To  Guy's  surprise  she  ran  directly  up  to 
an  old  lady,  who,  though  he  had  not  seen 
it,  had  been  beckoning  to  her. 

"  One  of  you  is  enough,"  said  the  wo- 
man, gruffly,  as  she  saw  them  all  coming. 
"It's  the  little  girl  with  blue  eyes  that 
I'm  wanting." 

The  others,  not  used  to  being  thus  ad- 
dressed, turned  at  once ;  but  the  woman 


150  Trip  to  Montreal. 


only  winked  at  Butterfly,  and  seemed 
very  much  amused. 

"Josiah  would  call  that  'cutting  and 
running,'  "  she  said.  Butterfly  looked  at 
her  as  if  she  did  not  quite  understand 
what  she  meant,  nor  do  I  think  she  did. 
"Look  here!"  she  then  said,  pulling  her 
dress  from  over  a  large  basket,  which  But- 
terfly knew  at  once  to  be  the  one  Guy  had 
found.  "  That  is  for  him,"  pointing  to 
Guy,  "  and  I  want  you  to  carry  it  to  him, 
formal  like,  with  my  compliments  and  my 
kindest  thanks.     Peep  in !" 

So  saying,  she  lifted  the  lid  of  the  basket, 
and  Butterfly's  eyes  grew  very  large  and 
bright  as  she  saw  its  contents.  Peaches 
and  pears,  plums  and  grapes,  were  ar- 
ranged in  the  prettiest  manner.  Every 
peach  turned  with  its  red  side  uppermost, 


The  Rapids.  151 


and  the  grapes,  purple  and  luscious-look- 
ing, trailing  like  festoons  around  the  pears. 

"Those  are  for  Guy!"  Butterfly  ex- 
claimed. 

"Yes,  with  my  compliments  and  kind 
thanks,"  repeated  the  woman,  her  coarse, 
homely  face  lighting  up  with  a  pleasant 
look. 

"  O  dear  me,  how  splendid !"  Butter- 
fly exclaimed.  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he 
was  as  happy  as  a  king.  Let  me  take 
them,  quick !  Thank  you  very  much  in- 
deed— that  is,  Guy  will  thank  you,  and  I 
do  too — for — for" — said  Butterfly,  stop- 
ping suddenly — "  for  letting  me  carry  them 
to  him." 

"  I'm  thinking  you'll  get  a  bite,  if  my 
eyes  don't  deceive  me,"  said  the  woman, 
looking  very  wise ;  but  Butterfly  did  not 


152  Trip  to  Montreal 


know  what  she  meant.  She  only  knew 
that  there  was  Guy,  and  here  was  the 
basket,  and  the  distance  between  them 
was  to  be  passed  over  in  the  least  possi- 
ble time. 

The  basket  was  as  heavy  as  she  could 
well  carry ;  and  no  sooner  did  Guy— who, 
after  his  repulse,  had  walked  a  little 
angrily  away  to  another  side  of  the  boat 
— catch  a  sight  of  her  with  so  much  more 
than  she  could  easily  lift,  than  he  ran  to 
meet  and  help  her. 

"  They  are  all  for  you — the  lady  says 
so  " — placing  the  handle  of  the  basket  as 
quickly  as  she  could  in  Guy's  hands — 
"  and  there  are  lots  of  them.  O  my !  so 
splendid !  Dear  me !  I  never,  never,  in  all 
my  life  saw  the  like,  and  you  are  to  have 
her  love,  and  her — no" — said  Butterfly, 


The  Rapids. 


stopping  abruptly  —  "  her  compliments, 
and  her  love,  and  her  regards — no,  not 
that  either — her — her  " 

"Never  mind  her  what,"  said  Guy, 
peeping  in  ;  "  we've  got  her  fruit,  and  that 
is  enough.  See  here,  Hal,  if  a  fellow  gets 
this  for  being  cross  and  snappish  and 
rude  as  a  bear,  when  he  is  asked  to  do  a 
favor,  what  wouldn't  happen  if  he  did  it 
as  he  ought,  like  a  gentleman  ?" 

"  Just  nothing,'"  said  Hal,  looking  over 
Guy's  shoulder  into  the  basket.  "  Mr. 
Niles  says  we  ought  never  to  do  a  good  or 
a  kind  action  for  the  sake  of  a  reward." 

"  It  makes  a  chap  feel  so  mean,"  broke 
in  Guy.  "  I  tell  you  I  was  as  savage  as 
a  meat-axe  ;  and  when  she  called  me  '  knee 

high  to  a  toad,'  I  could  have "  opening 

his  hand  in  a  very  expressive  manner,  "  if 


154  Trip  to  Montreal 


she  had  not  been  a  woman,  and  an  old 
one  at  that.  I  can't  take  them,  Hal — 
there  is  no  two  ways  about  it.     I  cannot." 

"  What  can  yon  do,  then  ?" 

"  Ask  my  mother."  And  away  went  Guy 
to  talk  the  matter  over  with  his  mother. 
Pretty  soon  he  came  back  with  a  very 
happy  face. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  merrily.  "Now 
we  have  nothing  to  do  but  help  ourselves, 
and  here  is  a  rich  treat  indeed." 

Guy  felt  very  proud  as  he  acted  the 
part  of  lord  of  the  feast.  His  mother  had 
sent  him  to  thank  the  lady  for  her  gift, 
and  had  whispered  to  him  : 

"  Let  it  be  a  lesson  to  you  for  the  future. 
Always  be  obliging  when  you  can,  and  be 
so  whole-heartedly  ;  that  is  the  beauty  of 
the  thing — whole-hearted" 


The  Bapids.  155 


Guy  had  determined  lie  would,  and  it 
was  this  good  resolution  that  made  him 
so  happy  now. 

Before  the  children  had  quite  disposed 
of  the  fruit,  Mr.  Niles  came  and  said : 
"The  boat  is  approaching  the  first 
rapids." 

Now  these  rapids  are,  perhaps,  greater 
objects  of  interest  in  sailing  through  the 
St.  Lawrence  than  even  the  Thousand 
Isles,  particularly  to  the  boys.  So  the  re- 
mainder of  the  fruit  was  put  away  hastily, 
and  they  all  hurried  to  that  part  of  the 
boat  from  which  the  best  view  could  be 
obtained. 

They  were  now  about  to  enter  the  first 
rapids,  called  "  Galliope  Rapids."  These 
are  a  very  good  preparation  for  what  is  to 
come  afterwards.     The  water  runs  swiftly, 


156  Trip  to  Montreal 


tumbling  up  as  it  passes  over  the  rocks, 
like  waves,  and  when  the  steamer  enters, 
it  seems  to  fly  along,  as  if  it  were  ready 
to  plunge  down  into  an  abyss. 

The  children  were  prepared,  however, 
for  something  far  more  wonderful.  Guy 
and  Hal  looked  a  little  contemptuously 
upon  what  they  were  expected  to  admire ; 
but  they  had  both  been  at  sea,  and  these 
first  rapids  do  not  seem  great  to  those 
who  have  been  tossed  upon  the  At- 
lantic. 

"Is  this  all?"  said  Guy. 

"  All !     It's  splendid  !"  said  Butterfly. 

"  I  think  it's  very  nice,"  said  Margaret. 
"  I  like  it  better  than  the  others,  there  is 
so  much  less  danger." 

"  I  don't  see  any  fun  at  all  here,"  said 
Hal ;  "  but  you  wait.     If  you  don't  sing  a 


The  Hapids.  15? 


different  song,  Guy,  before  we  reach  Mont- 
real, then  I  am  mistaken,  that's  all." 

"  I  hope  you  will  be,"  said  Guy,  with  an 
incredulous  shake  of  the  head.  "If  you 
can  believe  it,  Hal,  my  friend  of  the 
fruit-basket  asked  the  captain  if  he  was 
sure  his  boat  is  safe — if  there  is  no  danger 
of  its  going  to  the  bottom — where  the 
worst  rocks  are— and  " 

"  Little  boy,"  said  a  voice  close  to  Guy, 
"  when  you  are  as  old  as  I  am,  and  Josiah 
isn't  with  you,  you  will  learn  that  it  isn't 
the  prettiest  thing  in  the  world  to  be 
a-going  head-first  you  don't  know  where." 

"  But  we  do  know  where,"  said  Guy,  as 
quietly  as  if  he  had  known  all  the  time 
she  was  there.  "  We  are  going  to  Montreal, 
and  the  rapids  only  help  us  to  go  the 
quicker." 


158  "trip  to  Montreal 


"  Don't  trifle  with  solemn  things,"  said 
the  woman,  looking  at  Guy  very  sternly  ; 
and  then  she  turned,  and  away  she  went, 
Guy's  face  changing  into  a  very  merry 
smile. 

There  were  several  small  rapids  through 
which  the  boats  passed  before  they  reached 
those  which  are  considered  the  most  beau- 
tiful in  the  St.  Lawrence.  These  are  called 
the  Long  Sault,  and  are  nine  miles  long, 
divided  in  the  centre  by  an  island. 

As  soon  as  the  boat  came  within  sight 
of  this  white  water,  there  began  to  be  a 
movement  on  deck.  All  the  passengers 
came  up  from  the  cabin,  and  those  who 
were  in  the  stern  of  the  boat  pressed 
eagerly  to  the  fore  part.  Mothers  called 
then  children  to  them,  and  families  every- 
where arranged  themselves  in  groups,  as  if 


The  Rapids.  159 


expecting  some  great  event,  and  being 
determined  to  meet  it  together. 

Aunt  Bessie  would  like  to  have  had 
Butterfly  close  by  her  side,  but  Aunt 
Matilda  said,  sensibly  :  "  If  you  show  any 
anxiety,  you  will  give  it  to  her.  She  is 
perfectly  fearless  now,  and  will  enjoy 
everything  much  better  if  she  continues 
so." 

Therefore  Butterfly  was  left  with  her 
young  friends. 

"  Shut  off  the  steam,  I  see,"  Mr.  Mies 
said,  coming  towards  them.  "  Now,  chil- 
dren, come  with  me  to  the  wheel-house. 
Batiste  is  just  coming  on  board.  Did  you 
hear  them  whistling  for  him  ?" 

"  Oh,  that  was  it,"  said  Guy.  "  I  knew 
it  was  a  signal,  but  I  could  not  tell  for 
what." 


160  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"  There  lie  is.     Look !" 

The  children  turned  to  see  an  Indian 
running  up  the  rope-ladder  that  was 
lowered  for  him.  Then  his  canoe,  a  long, 
slim  boat,  made  of  birch,  was  drawn  up 
after  him.  He  waited  to  see  it  safe. 
Then  with  a  bound  he  sprang  down  on 
deck,  and  with  long  strides,  without  turn- 
ing his  head  to  the  right  or  the  left,  or 
taking  the  least  notice  of  the  passengers 
who  crowded  around,  he  went  to  the 
wheel-house  and  took  command  of  the 
vessel  and  of  all  the  lives  on  board  her. 

Batiste  was  a  large  man,  dressed  with 
all  the  oddities  of  Indian  costume.  He 
wore  tight-fitting  pants  made  from  a  wolf- 
skin, the  hair  inside,  a  shirt  of  striped 
woollen,  a  sash  of  red  broadcloth,  elegantly 
embroidered  with  beads  and  figures  made 


The  Bapids.  161 


of  colored  barks,  ended  by  a  heavy  bead 
fringe.  A  long,  gray  woollen  blanket, 
embroidered  also  in  showy  figures,  was 
fastened  at  his  neck,  with  a  round  pin,  cut 
from  a  stone,  with  a  mosaic  of  steel. 
Long  black  hair,  coarse  and  straight,  hung 
down  to  his  waist ;  and  fitting  tight  to  his 
head  was  a  round  cap,  heavily  worked 
with  beads,  and  surmounted  by  two  eagle 
plumes. 

He  had  piercing  black  eyes,  high  cheeks, 
a  large  mouth,  and  looked  so  grave  and 
stern  that  Butterfly  crept  close  to  Mar- 
garet, putting  her  arm  round  her  waist  as 
she  did  so. 

Guy  saw  the  action  and  said  :  "  You  are 

afraid,  Butterfly.     He  has  too  much  else 

to  do  to  swallow  you  up  at  a  mouthful." 

Butterfly  could  understand  very  little  of 
11 


1G2  Trip  to  Montreal 


what  the  others  seemed  to  know  so  much. 
She  only  knew  that  Batiste  took  hold  of 
the  wheel,  and.  three  other  men  with  him, 
and  a  little  distance  from  him  were  two 
more,  pulling  away  at  something  Guy 
called  a  "tiller,"  and  then  the  boat  went 
plunging  down  into  the  water,  and  rocked 
and  tumbled  about  in  a  way  that  seemed 
very  funny  to  her,  while  the  faces  of  'Jie 
six  men  grew  red;  and  when  Batiste 
grunted  out  a  word,  as  he  did  every  now 
and  then,  their  faces  grew  even  redder, 
and  they  pulled  away  as  if  they  meant  the 
steamer  should  go  just  Batiste's  way  and 
no  other. 

"  "We  go  like  shot,"  said  Guy,  after 
watching  their  progress  silently  for  a  few 
minutes.  "But  after  all,  the  waves  are 
nothing  like  those  of  the  sea  in  a  storm." 


The  Rapids.  163 


"  You  wait  until  you  reach  Montreal,5 
still  said  Hal,  and  only  smiled  when  Guy 
looked  so  incredulous. 

There  was  very  little  time  lost  in  passing 
through  these  rapids,  and  long  before 
Butterfly  was  ready  for  still  water  they 
were  out  of  them,  and  Batiste  was  down 
among  the  crew,  smoking  his  pipe  as 
quietly  as  if  there  had  never  been  such  a 
place  as  the  Long  Saulfc  Bapids. 

Yery  soon  after  leaving  these  rapids, 
Hal  said : 

"  There,  Guy.  Here  the  St.  Lawrence 
says  good-by  to  America,  and  becomes 
wholly  her  Majesty's !" 

"  And  her  Majesty  is  welcome  to  her," 
said  Guy,  with  a  low  bow.  "  We  have 
plenty  of  better  rivers  left." 


164  Trip  to  Montreal. 


Hal  laughed.  "  You  Americans  can 
brag,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  we  inherited  the  trait,"  answered 
Guy.  And  Mr.  Mies,  when  he  heard  his 
answer,  laughed  heartily. 

"  Now,"  said  Gu}f,  "  I  don't  want  to  hear 
nor  see  a  thing  until  we  come  to  the 
Cedars.  This  quiet  water  is  very  tame." 
And  he  sat  down,  covering  his  face  with 
both  of  his  hands. 

"  Then  you  don't  want  to  hear  the 
story." 

"  Of  what  ?"  said  Guy,  uncovering  one 
eye  and  peeping  out. 

"  Of  the  old  Indian  village  of  St.  Kegis 
and  the  bell." 

"  I  do,"  said  Guy. 

"  No,  I  won't  tell  you  until  after  we  pass 
the  Cedar  Eapids,"  said  Hal,  provokingly. 


The  Rapids.  165 


"  1  will,  though,"  said  Margaret. 

"  Do,"  said  Butterfly. 

"  Begin,  then.  '  Once  upon  a  time,'  " 
said  Guy. 

"  Do  it  up  short,"  said  Hal. 

"Catholic  priests  told  the  Indians  who 
lived  here,  and  whom  they  had  half  con- 
verted, that  they  would  never  go  to  a 
happy  world  hereafter  unless  they  built  a 
church  and  bought  a  bell.  So  they  sold 
furs  and  raised  money  enough  to  buy  a 
bell  in  France.  But  on  its  way  to  this 
country  it  was  captured  and  carried  into 
Salem,  Mass.  Then  some  people  in  Deer- 
field  wanted  to  buy  it,  and  they  did,  and 
carried  it  home,  and  put  it  up  in  the 
belfry  of  their  church.  When  the  priest 
heard  where  it  was,  he  told  the  Indians 
they  must  go  and  find  it.     So  away  they 


166  Trip  to  Montreal. 


went,  through  woods  where  there  wasn't 
any  path,  until  they  came  to  Deerfield,  in 
the  night.  Everybody  was  asleep,  and 
they  went  right  into  the  town,  killed  eve] 
so  many,  and  took  others  prisoners,  and 
then  they  fastened  the  bell  to  a  long  pole, 
and  carried  it  home." 

"  Dear  me,  I  should  think  that  was  a 
new  way,  to  murder  for  a  church-bell," 
said  Guy. 

"  They  did,  though,"  repeated  Margaret. 
"  I  have  been  at  St.  Kegis  many  times,  and 
seen  this  very  bell." 

"  Just  done  in  time.  Here  we  go  into 
the  rapids.  Now  for  the  same  things  over, 
but  you  just  please  to  wait  for  La  Chine, 
said  Hal,  "  and  then  we'll  talk  about  the 
rapids" 


IX. 

COMING  INTO   POET. 

ig^  A  CHINE  Eapids  fully  justified 

all  Hal  had  said  in  their  praise. 

Batiste  took  the  helm  again,  and 

the  four  men  were  at  the  wheel  and  two 

more  at  the  rudder.     All  the  passengers 

crowded  to  the  fore  part  of  the  boat  as 

soon  as  the  roar  and  tumble  of  the  water 

gave  warning  that  they  were  approaching 

this  famous  pass.     Our  party  of  travellers, 

with  the  addition  of  the  new  friends  they 

had  made  since  leaving  Niagara,  Hal  and 

his  tutor,  Margaret  aud  her  grandmother, 

gathered  together,  and  fortunately  secured 

(167) 


168  Trip  to  Montreal. 


one  of  the  best  places  for  seeing  and 
hearing.  On  went  the  good,  stanch 
boat  bravely  into  the  water. 

"  Just  as  if  she  knew  what  was  expected 
of  her,"  Gay  said,  "  and  meant  to  meet 
the  occasion  nobly." 

Now  came  pitching  and  tossing,  a 
feeling  as  if  the  boat  was  going  head 
first  into  a  watery  grave — a  sharp  grind- 
ing when  its  keel  struck  against  a  stone, 
a  little  screaming  from  the  most  timid  of 
the  passengers.  Pale  faces  and  anxious 
looks  on  many  that  were  not  frightened 
enough  to  express  their  fears,  and  a 
general  wish  that  the  rapids  were  passed 
in  the  hearts  of  all. 

As  the  boat  went  into  the  midst  of  the 
roughest  water,  Butterfly,  who  was  much 
attracted  by  Batiste  and  the  men  at  the 


Coming  into  Port.  169 


wheel,  saw  the  captain  spring  suddenly 
from  the  wheel-house  down  upon  deck, 
and  run  towards  the  tiller.  Two  other 
men  followed  him  in  an  instant,  and  then 
came  screams  from  every  part  of  the 
deck.,  and  she  heard  the  words  : 

"  We're  lost !  we're  lost !" 

Catching  tight  hold  of  Aunt  Bessie's 
arms,  she  looked  around  her  in  much 
alarm.     What  had  happened  ? 

Passengers  began  to  push  back  from 
the  fore  part  of  the  boat.  Some  covered 
their  faces,  some  wrung  their  hands,  a  few 
dropped  on  their  knees,  and  Butterfly 
heard  the  old  woman,  whose  basket  Guy 
had  found,  praying. 

To  her  question  of  what  had  happened, 
Aunt  Bessie  could  make  no  answer.  In- 
deed all  that  was  known  was  that  the 


170  Trip  to  Montreal. 


captain  and  men  had  jumped  from  the 
wheel-house  with  pale,  excited  faces  ;  and 
Batiste,  left  with  one  man  only,  was 
apparently  doing  the  Avork  of  all. 

Guy  went  to  his  mother's  side,  putting 
his  arm  affectionately  around  her  neck. 
This  Butterfly  could  see  while  she  watched 
Batiste. 

The  ten  minutes  that  followed,  the 
child  will  probably  never  forget.  The 
roll  of  the  vessel,  the  roar  of  the  water, 
the  terrified  passengers,  Batiste  and  the 
other  men  that  managed  the  boat,  and 
Aunt  Bessie's  calm,  pale  face,  that  said  to 
her  as  distinctly  as  the  little  Margaret 
once  had  to  her  mother,  "  Whatever  hap- 
pens, Jesus  is  here." 

It  was  not  until    the   peril  was  safely 


Coming  into  Port.  171 


past,  that  Butterfly,  or  indeed  any  pas- 
senger, knew  what  had  taken  place. 

One  of  the  large  ropes  upon  which  they 
depended  for  the  control  of  the  boat  had 
suddenly  parted,  and  had  not  the  prudent 
managers  provided  for  just  such  an 
emergency,  the  boat  would  have  struck 
upon  the  rocks  and  many  lives  must  have 
been  lost. 

"  Were  we  really  in  danger  ?"  Butterfly 
heard  Aunt  Matilda  ask  the  pleasant 
captain,  when,  the  rapids  passed,  they 
were  again  in  still  water,  and  he  was 
mingling  with  the  passengers. 

"  Yes,  great  danger,  for  a  few  minutes," 
he  said;  "but,  thank  God,  it  is  over. 
These  rapids  are  always  dangerous,  and 
I  never  pass  through  them  without  being 


172  Trip  to  Montreal 


inclined  to  say  as  I  do  now,  'Thank 
God.' " 

"  I  like  that  man,"  said  Guy  afterwards, 
when  the  children  were  discussing  their 
escape  together.  "  He  is  a  brave,  and  a 
good  man  too.  My  father  says  the 
bravest  men  are  always  those  who  can 
see  God's  hand  in  everything,  and  love  to 
thank  him  heartily,  as  Captain  Black  did." 

Hal  looked  at  Guy  in  some  surprise. 
He  was  not  accustomed  to  hearing  a  boy 
speak  of  anything  religious  in  a  common 
conversation ;  but  Guy  had  been  brought 
up  to  recognize  religion  as  nothing  sepa- 
rated from,  only  the  most  important  part 
of,  his  every-day  life. 

The  children  were  now  so  fully  occupied 
in  imagining  what  might  have  happened, 
that  they  did  not  notice  very  many  of  the 


Coming  into  Port.  173 


objects  of  interest  around  them,  until  Hal 
said: 

"  Look  there,  can  you  show  anything  to 
equal  that  in  the  United  States  ?"  pointing, 
as  he  spoke,  to  the  Victoria  Bridge. 

Instead  of  answering  him,  Guy  asked, 
"  How  long  is  this  bridge  ?  who  built  it  ? 
and  for  what  special  purpose  ?" 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Hal,  seating  himself 
deliberately,  and  assuming  the  look  of  an 
old  guide,  "I  will  begin  with  your  last 
question.  The  bridge  was  built  by  the 
Grand  Trunk  Eailway  Company.  They 
must,  you  see,  get  over  this  river  in  some 
way,  so  James  Hodges,  builder,  said  to 
Robert  Stevenson,  engineer,  '  I'll  make  a 
bridge  for  you,'  and  Mr.  Stevenson  said, 
'  Go  ahead,'  and  so  he  put  down  twenty- 
four  piers,  two  hundred  and  forty-two  or 


174  Trip  to  Montreal. 


three  hundred  and  twenty  feet  apart,  over  a 
distance  of  one  mile  and  a  quarter.  Now, 
in  winter,  you  know,  Canada  is  a  cold 
place,  and  the  ice  is  something  of  a 
somebody.  It  comes  pressing  down 
against  this  bridge,  not  like  a  trifle,  let  me 
tell  you,  but  with  a  weight  of  thousands 
of  tons.  So  Mr.  Hodges  made  all  the 
abutments  of  this  bridge  able  to  resist 
a  pressure  of  seventy  thousand  tons.  If 
we  have  time,  we  will  go  to  the  top  of  that 
centre  tube.  I  tell  you  what,  Guy,  you 
will  see  things  there  that  will  make  you 
stare." 

"That's  what  I  can  do  easily,"  said 
Guy,  opening  his  mouth,  and  eyes  very 
wide,  at  which  the  little  folks,  of  course, 
laughed. 

"  How  much  did  it  cost  ?"  asked  he  then. 


Coming  into  Port  175 


"  That  is  a  regular  Yankee  question," 
said  Hal.  "It  cost  seven  millions  of 
dollars." 

"  A  pretty  sum !     I  hope  it  pays." 

"  I  think  it  is  not  good  property."  And 
Hal  looked  as  concerned  while  he  was 
saying  this  as  his  father  would  have  done. 
"  We  pass  right  under  it,  in  order  to  enter 
the  harbor  at  Montreal,  and  you  will  see 
then  how  high  it  is  above  the  water." 

"  Do  we  have  to  lower  our  chimneys  ? 
I've  been  often  in  boats  that  were  obliged 
to  do  so  in  order  to  sail  clear  of  a 
bridge." 

"You  wait  and  see,"  was  all  Hal 
answered. 

"  I  see  it,"  said  Butterfly,  suddenly. 

"  See  what  ?"  asked  Margaret. 

"  Montreal,  I  guess." 


176  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"Is  that  all?  Why,  I  thought  it  was 
something  great,"  said  Guy. 

"It  is,"  said  Hal. 

Guy  smiled.  He  had  been  into  the 
harbor  of  New  York  so  often,  and  seen 
that  great  city  spread  out  before  him,  that 
Montreal  did  not  seem  to  him  so  very 
large. 

Hal  saw  the  smile,  and  answered  : 

"  Here  is  a  river  frontage  of  nearly 
three  miles  in  length,  not  easily  beaten 
anywhere.  For  more  than  a  mile  it  has 
a  stone  wall ;  and  see  there,"  pointing  to 
a  glittering  dome — "there  is  Bonsecours 
Market ;  and  there  by  it,  you  see,  Guy" 

"  Yes,"  said  Guy. 

"  That  spire  belongs  to  the  Bonsecours 
church,  one  of  the  oldest  churches  in 
Montreal.      Look  at  Mount  Koj^al,   away 


Coming  into  Port.  177 


there  in  the  background.  Don't  you  see 
those  beautiful  villas?" 

"  I  do,"  said  Butterfly.  "  I  see  houses 
and  belfries." 

"  Spires,"  interrupted  Guy. 

"  Spires,"  went  on  Butterfly,  good-na- 
turedly ;  "  and — and — lots  of  things." 

"  Yes,  that  is  just  it,"  said  Guy.  "  Lots 
of  things.  Now  here  we  go  under  the 
bridge.  I  tell  you  what,  Hal,  you  were 
right.  This  is  a  pretty  tall  sort  of  a  thing. 
Look  up,  Butterfly.  See  what  a  distance 
there  is  above  us  before  we  come  any- 
where near  it.     It  is  grand  !" 

This   hearty   admiration    Hal   enjoyed, 

and  I  think  the  face  of  the  English  boy, 

as  he   stood   looking  up   to   the    bridge 

above  him,  was   made  very  beautiful  by 

the  love  of   his  country  which  spoke   in 
12 


178  Trip  to  Montreal. 


every  look.  Guy  thought  so  too ;  for  in- 
voluntarily lie  held  out  his  hand,  and 
said: 

"  Hal,  let  us  be  friends  longer  than  for 
the  voyage." 

Hal  hesitated  for  one  moment.  He  had 
not  been  educated  into  that  love  for 
Americans  that  would  make  him  take  one 
warmly  and  at  once  into  his  affections ; 
but  there  was  something  about  Guy 
which  he  could  not  resist,  and  he  put  his 
hand  cordially  in  Guy's,  his  grasp  warmer 
and  longer  than  any  other  boy's  had  ever 
been  before. 

"  There  is  Notre  Dame,"  said  Margaret, 
while  they  still  held  hands  under  the 
bridge. 

"Notre  Dame?  Who  is  that?"  asked 
Butterfly. 


Coming  into  Port  179 


The  children  all  laughed. 

"  Who  is  a  large  Catholic  church,"  said 
Guy. 

"  Oh,  I  thought  it  was  a  woman,"  said 
Butterfly. 

"  It  is  named  after  one,"  said  Hal, 
" '  Our  Lady,'  meaning  the  Holy  Virgin, 
Mary,  the  mother  of  Jesus.  "We  will  go 
together  and  visit  it,  Guy.  Mr.  Mies 
says  he  will  extend  my  vacation  as  long 
as  you  remain  in  Montreal,  and  if  you  will 
take  me  for  guide,  nothing  will  make  me 
happier." 

When  Margaret  heard  this,  she  ran  to 
her  grandmother,  and  soon  came  back 
with  a  very  smiling  face. 

"  My  grandmother  says,"  she  said, 
"  that  I  may  go  too.     May  I  ?" 

Butterfly,  by   way   of  answer,   hugged 


180  Trip  to  Montreal 

and  kissed  her,  and  Margaret  seemed  to. 
understand  that  she  meant,  "Yes,  it 
would  make  her  very  happy  to  have  her 
with  them,"  as  in  truth  it  did. 

"What  is  that  tower?"  asked  Guy, 
pointing  to  a  tall  tower. 

"  Koyal  Insurance  Buildings,"  said  Hal ; 
"  and  all  that  long  line  of  handsome  stone 
buildings  flanking  the  wharf  are  stores. 
We  shall  land  at  Jacques  Cartier's 
Square.     Here  we  are,  headed  for  it  now." 

The  boat  steamed  slowly  through  long 
lines  of  shipping  until  it  came  to  a  large 
wharf,  before  which  several  other  steam- 
boats were  already  landing  passengers. 
Each  one  had  its  place,  and  so,  carefully 
avoiding  any  collision,  went  to  its  own 
landing,  let  off  its  steam,  blew  its  whistle, 
rang  its  bell,  and  stopped. 


Coming  into  Port.  181 


Butterfly's  aunts  did  not  offer  to  take 
the  few  cares  they  had  given  to  Butterfly 
from  her  because  there  was  so  much  that 
was  new  to  see  and  hear  here.  She  would 
very  gladly  have  stood  still  and  left  ever}T- 
thing  to  be  done  by  some  one  else ;  but 
she  very  well  knew  this  was  neither  kind 
nor  polite,  so,  with  many  longing  looks 
behind  her,  she  went  down  into  her  state- 
room, and  began  to  gather  together  all 
her  travelling  articles.  These  had  accu- 
mulated since  she  left  home.  Indeed,  I 
am  afraid,  if  her  kind  aunts  had  not  kept 
a  quiet  watch  over  them,  she  would  hardly 
have  had  them  all  when  she  reached  her 
own  home  in  Frostland. 

When  she  came  back  on  deck  now,  she 
looked  like  the  little  old  woman  we  have 
all  heard   about  who  never  could  travel 


182  Trip  to  Montreal. 


without  taking  with  her  "big  box,  little 
box,  bandbox,  and  bundle."  So  Guy  told 
her,  but  she  didn't  care,  only  so  she  kept 
them  safe. 

"  O  my  !  dear  me  !  how  funny  !"  Say- 
ing these  words,  Butterfly  began  to  drop 
first  a  basket,  then  stooping  to  pick  it  up, 
she  let  her  sunshade  fall.  Picking  up 
that,  down  went  her  reticule ;  picking  up 
that,  over  went  her  water-proof ;  until  she 
was  only  a  little  girl,  sitting  amidst  a  heap 
of  travelling  gear,  trying  to  get  it  together 
with  her  hands,  while  her  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  a  man  dressed  in  a  green  coat,  with 
white  knee-breeches,  who  was  coming  on 
deck. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  funny-looking 
man?"  she  said,  pointing  him  out  to  the 
others. 


Coming  into  Port.  183 


"  Oh,  there  is  John !"  said  Margaret. 
"John!  John!" 

The  man  in  the  green  coat  turned  at 
once,  then  lifted  a  tall  black  hat  with  a 
white  band  around  it,  and  came  towards 
her. 

"  Who  is  it  ?"  asked  Butterfly,  more  and 
more  astonished. 

"  Our  footman,  John,"  said  Margaret. 
But  Butterfly  never  had  heard  of  a  foot- 
man before,  and  did  not  know  what  she 
meant. 

The  man  looked  as  if  he  was  very  glad 
to  see  Margaret ;  but  she  did  not  seem  to 
care  for  him,  and  Butterfly  felt  sorry,  and 
wanted  to  go  to  him  and  say  a  kind 
word.  But  just  then  he  caught  sight  of 
Margaret's  grandmother,  and,  touching 
his  hat  once    more,   went   towards  her, 


184  Trip  to  Montreal. 


Butterfly  following  him  curiously  with  her 
eyes. 

Pretty  soon  he  oame  back,  bringing 
Margaret  a  message  from  her  grandmo- 
ther, and  then  she  said  "  good-by  "  to  the 
children,  promising  to  come  early  the 
next  day  to  see  Butterfly,  at  her  hotel. 

"  Look  out,  now !"  said  Hal,  as  Marga- 
ret with  her  grandmother  went  over  the 
broad  board  which  had  been  placed  be- 
tween the  boat  and  the  wharf  for  the 
accommodation  of  travellers.  "  Look  out 
for  Lord  John  Talbot's  carriage  !  It's  the 
handsomest  turnout  Ave  have  in  Mont- 
real." 

Guy  ran  with  Hal  to  a  side  of  the  boat, 
so  that  they  could  see  up  the  street  upon 
which  the  carriage  had  started,  and  But- 
terfly followed  them, 


Coming  into  Port.  185 


However  handsome  the  "  turnout "  wa°, 
the  only  thing  which  made  any  impression 
upon  her  was  the  two  men,  coachman  and 
footman,  dressed  in  what  seemed  to  her 
the  most  ridiculous  of  dresses. 

"  Why,  Aunt  Bessie,"  she  said,  as  soon 
as  they  were  moving  away  from  the  boat 
in  the  omnibus  that  ran  to  the  St.  Law- 
rence Hall,  "  0  dear !  he  looked  just  like 
— just  like  a  picture  I  saw  once  in  Emma's 
old  English  story-book." 

"And  I  dare  say  he  had  on  the  very 
same  dress  that  the  picture  was  made  to 
represent.  These  old  English  families 
seldom  change  their  liveries." 

"  Liveries.     What  are  those  ?" 

"  The  dresses  of  their  servants." 

"  How  very,  very  funny  !" 

"  That  is  only  one  of  many  funny  thing? 


186  Trip  to  Montreal 


you  will  see  here,"  said  Aunt  Bessie ;  at 
hearing  which,  Butterfly  had  to  whisper 
her  delight  to  Guy,  who  looked  very 
manly  on  the  occasion,  and  said : 

"I  have  no  doubt  we  shall  hunt  up 
something  in  Montreal  worth  coming  for, 
and  to  begin  with,  here  is  the  St.  Law- 
rence Hall,  the  very  best  here,  and  our 
home  for  the  next  week,  at  least." 


X. 


LETTEKS. 


T  the  St.  Lawrence  Hall  a  large 
number  of  letters  were  waiting 
X*"8*  our  travellers.  They  were  hand- 
ed to  Guy  as  soon  as  their  rooms  were 
taken,  and  he  saw  with  much  pleasure 
two  for  Butterfly  and  three  for  himself. 
As  none  of  them  are  very  long,  and  they 
are  all  from  the  young  friends  who  have 
been  with  us  in  our  preceding  books,  it 
may  interest  my  young  readers  to  have  me 
copy  them   here.     The  first  Guy  opened 

was  from  Bertie,  and  must  have  been  put 

(187) 


188  Trip  to  Montreal 


into  the  office  on  the  same  day  that  the 
party  left  Niagara.     Here  it  is  : 

"Deak  Guy: 

"I  miss  you,  old  fellow.  I  wish  you 
were  here.  I  am  counting  the  weeks 
already  until  we  go  to  school  together. 
This  morning  I  am  going  to  have  the  big 
black  horse  and  trot  down  to  the  Suspen- 
sion Bridge ;  and  this  afternoon  I  am 
going  to  have  another  row  up  and  down 
the  river.  We — that  is  the  ferryman  and 
I — are  going  up  as  close  to  the  falls  as  we 
can.  I  mean  to  get  in  under  them,  so  we 
can  have  a  real  ducking.  But  don't  you 
tell  anybody,  for  she— you  know  who— 
wouldn't  let  me,  and  then  we  should  have 
a  row.  She  and  I  are  getting  to  be  real 
good  friends — quite  affectionate — that  is, 
she  is,  and  I  grin  and  take  it. 


Letters.  189 

"  Good-by,  parson  prim.  No,  Prig,  it 
was,  I  believe.  Days  fly  by,  and  our  time 
will  come  at  last.     Till  then,  yours, 

"  Bertie." 

"  Good  for  Bertie !"  said  Guy,  folding 
the  letter  slowly.  "  I  should  like  to  be 
with  him  in  the  boat.  Mother,  I  wish  I 
was  the  eldest  of  ten  boys.  Then  you 
would  let  me-  go,  wouldn't  you  ?" 

"  No  sooner  than  I  would  now,  Guy," 
said  his  mother,  smiling.  'I  think  such 
exploits  foolhardy." 

Guy  would  probably  like  to  have  dis- 
cussed this  point  if  he  had  not  two  more 
letters  to  read  ;  but  while  he  had  been 
busy  with  Bertie's,  Butterfly  had  opened 
one  of  hers,  and  was  now  ready  to  read  it 
aloud  to  him. 

" Oh,  it's  elegant!" 


190  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"  I  don't  see  it.  It  looks  rather  crooked," 
said  Guy,  peeping  over  her  shoulder. 

"I  mean — there — I  promised  Aunt 
Bessie  I  would  try  and  not  say  any  of 
those  words  to-day,  and  I  have  already. 
Well,  it's  from  Marie,  and  it  tells  me 
everything. 

"  '  Dear,  darling  Butterfly  : 

"  '  I  love  you  so  dearly,  that  if  I  could 
see  you  this  minute  I  would  give  you  'most 
a  thousand  kisses.'  " 

"I  wish  you  could,"  said  Butterfly, 
interrupting  her  reading. 

"  '  I  go  up  to  the  Clarendon,  and  look  up 
to  your  window,  but  you  are  not  there.' ': 

"  Evident,  if  you  are  in  Montreal,"  said 
Guy. 

"  '  And  then  I  feel  as  if  I  should  like 
to  cry,  and  sometimes  I  do  almost.     Then 


Letters.  191 


I  go  up  to  see  Charlie.  To-day  I  carried 
liim  some  presents  ;  but  mamma  says  it  is 
not  ladylike  to  talk  about  a  gift  you  have 
made,  so  I  will  not  tell  you  what  they 
were.  He  likes  them,  and  we  went  to 
walk  together — that  is,  I  walked  and 
helped  drag  him — and  when  we  got  to 
Empire  Spring,  we  hunted  up  the  place 
where  you  told  your  story  about  Alice 
and  Charlie  told  me  another  all  about — 
but  I  can't  stop  to  tell  you  now,  because 
my  letter  wants  to  go  to  you  soon,  and  I 
see  Felice  putting  on  her  sash.  Then  she 
will  say,  "  Come,  Marie,"  and  I  must  go. 

"  '  I  love  you  dearly  and  I  miss  you 
always.  I  wish  you  would  come  back,  so 
does  Charlie,  so  do  we  all.  Please  come. 
I  love  you.     I  kiss  you. 

"  <  Maeie.'  " 


192  Trip  to  Montreal 


Butterfly  kissed  the  letter  over  and  over 
again,  and  then  Guy,  laughing,  said : 

"  That  will  do.  Now  here  is  one  to  me 
from  Charlie's  own  self.     Listen : 

" '  Dear  Guy  : 

" '  Mother  says  all  I  can  write,  when  I 
write  to  Butterfly  or  you,  is  :  "I  love  you, 
and  I  want  to  see  you ;"  but  it  isn't.  I  can 
tell  you  how  Nap  has  come,  and  Marie 
knows  him  so  well  that  he  barks  every 
time  he  hears  her  voice  when  she  comes 
to  see  me.  I  tell  you  what,  sir,  he  is  the 
most  splendidest  dog  ever  was.  You 
should  just  see  him,  if  you  want  to  know. 

"  '  Marie's  father  came  with  him,  and  he 
laid  my  hand  on  his  cold  noss,  and  he 
said  :  "  Nap,  this  is  your  little  master,  now. 
Be  very  kind  and  good  to  him,  will  you?" 


Letters.  193 

And  Nap  made  a  little  bark  just  as  if  he 
was  saying,  "Yes,"  only  it  frightened  me 
so  I  took  off  my  hand  in  a  hurry,  I  tell 
you. 

" '  Father  says,  when  he  gets  to  know 
me  well,  I  may  have  him  harnessed  into 
my  wagon  and  take  a  ride.  But  Marie's 
father  gave  my  wagon  a  shake,  and  said, 
"  It  wasn't  just  the  thing  for  a  sick  boy  to 
ride  in."  And  then  he  turned  it  up-side 
down,  and  said  something  to  my  father 
that  I  couldn't  hear ;  but  when  he  went 
away,  father  began  to  tinker  on  it,  and 
then  it  rode  so  easy. 

" '  O  Guy !  Guy !  Guy !  you  don't  know 

what  a  beauty  Nap  is !     With  a  black  and 

white  face,  and  a  black  and  white  body, 

and  a  white  tail,  all  bushy,  with  a  little 

black  end,  and  four  white  feet,  and  such 
13 


194  Trip  to  Montreal. 


ears !  I  wish  you  would  come  and  see 
liim — you  and  Butterfly.  Can't  you? 
P]ease  do,  and  see,  too,  your  loving  Char- 
lie, who  is  happy  as  a  king.' ,: 

"  Three  cheers  for  Nap !"  said  Guy, 
waving  the  letter  over  his  head.  "  He  is  a 
real  Newfoundlander,  mother,  like  our  old 
Tiger.  I  should  like  to  see  him  right  well, 
and  to  drive  out  Charlie.  I  say,  Butterfly, 
let  you  and  me  go  back  to  Saratoga." 

"  Well,  yes,  I  should  love  to  dearly. 
Oh,  here,  I  have  a  letter  from  Charlie 
too." 

"  So  you  have.     Bead  it,  do." 

" '  Deak  Buttekfly  : 

" '  Mother  says  I  do  nothing  but  want 
her  to  write  to  you  or  Guy  all  the  time  ;  but 
Nap  is  so  nice ;  and  what  do  you  think  ? 


Letters.  195 


Yesterday  a  big,  big  thing  came  up  to  our 
door — I  mean  the  express-man  brought  it — 
directed,  to  "  Master  Charlie,  from  his 
friend  Marie,"  and  just  as  fast  as  we  could, 
mother  and  I  untied  it — the  strings,  I 
mean,  round  the  brown  paper — and  there 
it  was.  O  dear !  it  is  so  nice  I  don't  know 
how  to  begin  to  tell  you  about  it.  It's  a 
carriage — not  a  wagon,  you  know,  but  a 
real,  true  carriage,  all  cushioned,  and  it's 
dark  blue,  and  it's  painted  with  gold — a 
little  gold  butterfly  right  on  its  side  ;  and 
Marie  says  that  is  in  honor  of  you,  our 
own  live  Butterfly,  and  mother  says  'In 
honor  of  means  that  we  love  you  and 
want  to  say  so — and  it's  mine — my  ownty- 
townty — can  you  believe  it  ?  I  can't,  but 
it  really  and  truly  is.  "  Charlie,  from  his 
friend  Marie,"  you  know. 


196  Trip  to  Montreal. 


"  '  Then  I've  got  a  harness,  a  real  "har- 
ness, for  Nap,  just  as  if  he  was  a  horse ; 
a  saddle  and  a  bridle,  and  hold  backs,  and 

0  dear,  such  reins  !  Blue,  with  "  Charlie  " 
in  great  letters  on  them ;  and  a  whip — but 

1  wouldn't  touch  it  to  Nap  for  the  world. 
It's  only  to  make  it  all  up,  like  a  real 
horse,  you  know.  But  I  like  a  dog — I 
like  Nap  a  great  deal  better. 

" '  I  am  going  to  ride  with  it.  Marie 
comes  too,  and  father  is  going  to  show 
me  liow  to  drive.  Good-by.  I  can't 
write  any  more,  'cause  I  guess  Marie  will 
be  here  soon,  and  I  must  go  and  get 
ready.     Please  tell  Guy  all  about  it. 

"'Your  little  happy,         Charlie.' 

" '  Mother  says  this  is  a  pretty  way  to 
sign  it — my  letter,  I  mean.'  " 


Letters.  197 


Butterfly  and  Guy  looked  in  each  other's 
faces  after  this  letter  was  read,  with 
almost  too  much  delight  to  speak.  At 
length  Guy  said : 

"  Butterfly,  that  is  what  I  call  first-rate 
Only  think,  a  dog,  a  wagon,  a  harness, 
and  a  whip  !     A  complete  outfit." 

"  And  a  gold  butterfly,"  said  Butterfly, 
dancing  around,  "  because  they  love  me  so 
dearly.  Oh,  Aunt  Bessie,  I  wish  you 
would  let  us  go  right  back  and  see  it." 

"Not  this  time,"  said  Aunt  Bessie. 
"  We  have  Montreal  before  us  yet,  you 
know." 

"  We  can't  go,  of  course,  Butterfly," 
said  Guy,  in  a  very  old  way,  "but  I 
mean  to  write  to  Charlie  to  have  a 
photograph  taken  of  the  whole  affair  and 
sent  to  us," 


198  Ti  ip  to  Montreal. 


"A  photogTaph  of  a  dog !"  said  Butter- 
fly, opening  her  eyes  very  wide. 

'  Yes  ;  and  the  carriage,  with  Charlie  in 
it.  I  had  one  of  Tiger.  By  the  way,  here 
is  one  in  my  pocket  now."  And  opening 
his  pocket-book,  Guy  took  out  a  picture 
of  a  large  Newfoundland  dog. 

"  What  a  beauty !"  said  Butterfly,  hold- 
ing it  at  arm's  length. 

"  I  ratb  (,r  think  he  is.  You  shall  see 
him  whf/i  you  come.  Father  calls  him, 
'  My  id.3 sparable,'  when  I  am  at  home.  If 
Nap  baats  him,  he  is  a  pretty  fine  fellow. 
That  is  the  most  I  have  to  say.  Now  for 
my  third  letter.  It  is  from  Bennie: 
written  in  the  cars,  and  mailed  on  the 
wa}7.  It's  written  in  pencil.  But  see  this, 
mother,  don't  you  call  it  a  fair  hand  for  a 
boy  like  that  ?" 


Letters.  199 


"I  think  it  shows  a  great  deal  of 
character,"  said  Guy's  mother,  looking  at 
the  note.  "  Are  you  going  to  read  it 
aloud?" 

"  Of  course  I  am. 

"  <  Dear  Guy  : 

"  '  Hallo  there  !  how  are  you  ?  I've  just 
been  into  the  smoking-car,  and  there  was 
a  little  fellow  no  bigger  than  you  are.' 

"I  am  as  large  as  you  are,  sir,"  said 
Guy,  sitting  up  very  straight. 

" '  Smoking  his  cigar.  He  said  it  was 
his  third.  What  do  you  think  of  that? 
Bat  I  tell  you  what,  his  face  was  yellow, 
and  all  shrivelled  up  like  an  old  man's  I 
saw  once  who  had  had  the  palsy  fifty 
years,  I  guess.  I  don't  know,  but  it  was 
some  awful  long  time  ;  and  he — the  boy — 


200  Trip  to  Montreal. 


couldn't  stand  straight.  I  thought  he  had 
been  drinking,  but  it  was  only  his  cigars. 
He  was  weak  in  his  pegs. 

"  '  I  am  having  a  jolly  ride.  *  We  are  in 
an  express  train,  and  go  forty  miles  an 
hour. 

"  '  I  expect  a  long  letter  from  you  when 
I  reach  home.  My  mother  bears  the  ride 
well ;  the  girls  enjoy  it. 

"  '  Write.     With  love  to  Butterfly, 

<"  Yours  ever,         J— R  !' " 

"  I  should  call  your  young  friends  very 
punctual  correspondents,"  said  Aunt 
Matilda,  as  the  last  letter  was  finished. 
"  Now,  how  soon  do  you  and  Guy  intend 
to  answer  these  letters,  Butterfly  ?" 

"  To-night,"  said  Butterfly,  promptly. 

"  No,  in  three  days,"  said  Guy.     "  Then 


Letters.  201 


we  shall  have  seen  Montreal  and  have 
something  to  tell  them  about." 

"But  Charlie,"  said  Butterfly,  "I  want 
to  tell  him  how  glad  we  are." 

"  True  enough.  You  run  to  your  room 
and  I  will  to  mine,  and  write  him,  then  we 
will  put  our  notes  together  in  one  en- 
velope." 

The  children  separated,  and  just  before 
bedtime,  tired  as  they  were,  they  bad 
written. two  long  letters  to  Charlie,  which 
they  put  together,  and  Guy  directed,  with 
many  flourishes  of  handwriting,  to  "  Master 
Charles  Wilson,  Saratoga,  N.  Y."  And 
tnen  two  happier  children  did  not  go  to 
sleep  in  Montreal  that  night,  I  am  sure, 
than  Guy  and  Butterfly. 


XL 


HAL  ACTS  AS   CHAPEEON. 

i HAT  do  you  know  about  Mont- 
real?" asked  Guy  the  next 
mk*j  morning,  when  Butterfly,  look- 
ing rather  pale  and  tired,  made  her  ap- 
pearance in  their  sitting-room. 

"Nothing,"  said  Butterfly,  a  little 
crisply.  "I  thought  that  was  what  we 
came  here  for." 

"So  we   did;  but   don't  you   want  to 
know  who  built  it  ?" 
"  No,"  said  Butterfly. 
Guy  looked  at  her  in  surprise.     It  was 

so  seldom  that  Butterfly  was  fretful,  he 

(202) 


Hal  acts  as  Chaperon.  203 


did  not  know  what  to  make  of  it.  "  Then 
I  shall  not  tell  you." 

"No,  don't,"  said  Butterfly,  going  to 
the  window,  and  looking  out. 

Guy  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  book 
he  held  in  his  hand  very  slowly.  He  had 
been  busy  hunting  up  all  the  information 
he  could  find  about  the  city,  but  what  he 
had  learned  seemed  very  little  reward  if 
he  could  not  impart  it  to  Butterfly. 

Conscious  that  she  had  been  cross,  But- 
terfly kept  looking  back  at  him  from 
under  her  eyes,  in  a  way  she  had  when 
she  did  not  wish  to  be  observed,  and 
then  out  of  the  window  again ;  but  she 
was  silent  for  a  long  time,  so  was  Guy. 
Suddenly  she  broke  out  with  : 

"  O  Guy !  O  dear !  how  funny  !  Hurry, 
hurry,  Guy.     Quick  !     O  my  !"     And  she 


204  Trip  to  Montreal 


jumped    up     and     down,    clapping    her 
hands. 

Guy  was  at  her  side  in  a  minute,  and 
saw — only  a  donkey-cart. 

"What?"  he  asked,  putting  his  head 
far  out  of  the  window,  and  looking  up  and 
down  the  street. 

"  That  funny  little  cart  and  horse,"  said 
Butterfly,  pointing  down  into  the  street. 

"  That  isn't  a  horse  at  all.  "Why,  Butter- 
fly Courtland,  did  you  never  see  a  donkey 
before  ?"  And  there  was  something  pro- 
voking to  Butterfly  in  the  laugh  with 
which  Guy  followed  this  explanation. 

"  A  donkey !"  she  said.  "  Why,  I  thought 
a  donkey  was  " Then  she  stopped. 

"Was  what?"  asked  Guy.  "  Did  you 
think  a  donkey  was  a  horse  ?" 

"  No,"  said  Butterfly,  briefly. 


Hal  acts  as  Chaperon.  205 


"What  then?" 

But  Butterfly  was  now  too  fully  occu- 
pied by  another  new  thing  to  answer. 

"Biding  behind,"  she  said,  "driving 
over  the  top  of  the  buggy  !" 

"  Yes,  that  is  a  hansom."  Guy  wanted 
to  ask  again,  "  Did  you  never  see  one  be- 
fore?" but  he  remembered  how  he  had 
annoyed  Butterfly,  so  he  said,  kindly  : 
"We  have  a  few  of  them  in  New  York; 
but  my  father  says  they  are  very  common 
in  the  streets  of  London.  You  see,  the 
driver  sitting  behind  does  not  obstruct  the 
view  of  the  person  riding.  It  is  just  as 
good  as  if  you  were  driving  yourself,  only 
you  don't  have  the  trouble  of  holding  the 
reins.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  look  out 
and  see  what  you  can.     We  will  have  a 


206  Trip  to  Montreal 


ride  in  one,  Butterfly,  before  we  are  done 
with  Montreal,  see  if  we  do  not !" 

"  That  would  be — O  dear !  I  was  go- 
ing to,  but  I  didn't,  did  I,  Guy  ?" 

"Did  you  what?" 

"  Say  '  splendid.'  There,  I  have  now, 
and  I  promised  Aunt  Bessie  I  would  try 
not  to."  And  Butterfly  looked  discom- 
fited. 

"  You  didn't  use  it  for  an  exclamation, 
though.  See,  there  is  a  line  of  donkey- 
carts  ;  and  there  comes  another  carriage — 
a  funny  little  single  hack,  drawn  by  one 
horse  ;  and — hush,  Butterfly,  I  hear  martial 
music.  I  dare  say  some  of  her  Majesty's 
regiments  are  out.     Come  and  see." 

But  though  the  music  could  be  dis- 
tinctly heard  from  every  part  of  the  house, 
no  soldiers  were  to  be  seen,  and  the  chil- 


Hal  acts  as  Chaperon.  207 


drew,  afraid  of  losing  a  sight,  went  for 
leave  to  go  out ;  but  Aunt  Matilda  was  not 
willing  to  have  Guy  and  Butterfly  alone 
for  the  first  time  in  the  streets  of  a  large 
city,  and  the  elder  members  of  the  party 
preferred  quiet  rest  in  their  room  at  home 
for  this  morning.  So  the  children  were 
just  making  up  their  minds  to  amuse 
themselves  as  they  best  could,  with  the 
sights  to  be  seen  from  the  windows  of  the 
ample  parlors,  when  a  servant  coming  in, 
with  what  Guy  called  a  great  flourish, 
said: 

"Master  Henry  Tappan  sends  his 
card,"  presenting  a  small,  neat  card,  "  and 
if  the  young  lady  and  gentleman  are  dis- 
engaged he  would  be  happy  to  see  them." 

"  Disengaged  of  course  we  are,"  said 
Guy,  eagerly.     "  Where  is  he?" 


208  Trip  to  Montreal 


"In  the  carriage  at  the  hotel  door,'' 
said  the  waiter. 

"  Tell  him  to  come  on,"  said  Guy,  very 
unceremoniously.  Then,  as  soon  as  the 
waiter  had  gone,  turning  to  Butterfly  :  "  I 
dare  say  he  will  come  with  four  men  in 
knee-breeches  and  crimson  plush,  and 
turn  out  to  be  the  Prince  of  Wales." 

"  Knee-breeches  and  crimson  plush  ?" 
asked  Butterfly,  looking  in  Guy's  face  in  a 
very  puzzled  way. 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  way  the  grand 
English  people  dress  up  their  servants. 
Some  people  in  New  York  imitate  them — 
make  popinjays  of  them." 

"  Popinjays !"  repeated  Butterfly,  again, 
growing  more  and  more  puzzled. 

"  How  funny  you  do  repeat !"  said  Guy, 


Hal  ads  as  Chaperon.  209 


laughing.  "  Did  you  never  hear  of  a  pop- 
nrjay? 

"  No,  never ;  but  it  is  no  matter.  Theie 
he  is,  and  I  don't  see  any  knee-breeches 
or  crimson  plush." 

Had  Butterfly  been  any  less  glad  to  see 
Hal,  there  would  have  been  a  shade  of  dis- 
appointment in  her  face,  as  the  boy  came 
bounding  into  the  parlor ;  but  now  the 
reception  the  two  waiting  children  gave 
him  was  warm  enough  to  satisfy  any 
one. 

"  I've  brought  my  father's  carriage,  and 

he   places    it,   with  his   compliments,    at 

your  disposal  for  the  day,"  said  Hal,  after 

a  few  minutes.     "  If  you  like,  we  will  go 

out   sight-seeing.     I   wanted   to   come  in 

the  clog-cart  with  the  ponies,  and  father 

said  I   might,  but  it  would  be   nicer  to 
14 


210  Trip  to  Montreal. 


have  the  carriage,  if  any  of  the  ladies 
would  like  to  go  with  us." 

The  invitation  was  so  formally  given, 
that  the  children  were  at  first  a  little  dif- 
fident about  accepting  it.  They  said  they 
would  ask  leave.  In  a  few  minutes  they 
came  back  ready  to  go,  those  in  authority 
being  very  glad  to  have  them  sight-see 
under  such  favorable  circumstances. 

Butterfly  was  a  little  awed  when  she 
saw  the  handsome  carriage  and  the  two 
large  horses ;  but  perhaps  less  with  them 
than  with  the  coachman  and  footman, 
dressed,  not  in  a  harlequin  style,  but  in 
plain  black,  with  white  gloves,  and  what 
Butterfly  was  sure  must  be  a  silver  band 
around  their  hats. 

"First  to  the  cathedral,"  said  Hal,  as 
they  were  ready  to  start.     "  That  makes  a 


Hal  acts  as  Chaperon,  211 


good  beginning.  0  no — drive  around  the 
city,  John.  You  know  better  than  I  do 
what  strangers  like  to  see." 

"Very  well,  sir,"  said  John,  touching 
his  hat. 

The  children  now  began  to  talk  so 
busily  that  I  doubt  whether  they  would 
have  remembered  there  was  anything  to 
see,  if  John  had  not  looked  back  into  the 
carnage,  and  said : 

"  Here  is  the  Methodist  church  ;  it  has 
one  of  the  finest  organs  in  the  city." 

"  But  it  is  never  played,  excepting  on  a 
Sunday,"  said  Hal,  "so  that  doesn't  do 
us  any  good." 

"  Here  is  a  Music  Hall,  holds  a  thousand 
people." 

"Is  that  all?"  said  Guy,  a  little  con- 
temptuously.    "  We  have  " Then  he 


212  Trip  to  Montreal 


stopped  short.  His  mother  had  charged 
him  before  he  came  out  not  to  compare  a 
single  thing  he  saw  while  with  Hal  with 
what  he  had  seen  at  home.  She  told 
him  it  was  neither  courteous  nor  pleasant 
to  do  so. 

"  Molson's  Bank,"  said  John  next. 

"  Oh  !  how  handsome,"  said  Butterfly, 
looking  out  with  delight  at  its  showy 
exterior. 

"Caverhill  Building." 

"  Stores,  I  see,"  said  Guy. 

"  Drive  through  St.  Paul's,"   said  Hal. 

The  coachman  touched  his  hat  again, 
and  turned  into  a  street  filled  at  this  hour 
of  the  morning  with  all  the  bustle  and 
crowd  usually  to  be  found  in  the  principal 
business  street  of  a  large  city. 


Hal  acts  as  Chaperon.  213 


"You  should  see  Broadway,"  Guy  was 
tempted  to  say,  but  lie  did  not. 

Butterfly  laughed  out  every  now  and 
then  as  she  saw  something  entirely  new, 
but  otherwise  was  too  much  occupied  and 
amused  to  talk ;  indeed,  the  boys  found  it 
very  difficult  to  get  even  an  answer  to 
their  questions. 

So  many  buildings  did  John  point  out  in 
the  course  of  the  hour,  while  the  great 
black  horses  were  carrying  them  around 
the  city,  that  Butterfly's  mind  began  to  be 
full  of  banks  jostling  churches,  and 
churches  pushing  about  universities,  and 
universities  crowding  down  nunneries,  and 
nunneries  turning  into  hospitals ;  so  she 
was  very  glad  when  at  last  John  stopped 
before  a  large  stone  building,  and  said  : 

"  This  is  the  cathedral." 


214  Trip  to  Montreal 


"  We  must  do  tliat  up,  of  course.  I  have 
been  in  here  a  hundred  times,  and  if  I 
live  long  shall  be  in  as  many  more,"  said 
Hal ;  "but  I  am  never  tired  of  it." 

The  footman  got  down  from  the  back  of 
the  carriage,  and  opened  the  door,  holding 
his  hand  out  to  help  Butterfly,  but  she 
jumped  down  like  a  little  kitten,  though 
she  did  not  forget  to  say  "  Thank  you." 

When  the  massive  door  was  opened,  and 
the  children  stepped  within  the  great 
church,  Butterfly  stopped  short.  She  had 
been  at  church  in  Frostland  all  her  life — 
a  neat,  simple  little  meeting-house,  four 
like  which  could  have  been  put  easily 
within  this. 

But  here  was  a  vast  building,  so  large 
that  Butterfly,  standing  by  one  of  the 
doors  that  opened  upon  the  street,  where 


Hal  acts  as  Chaperon.  215 


their  carriage  had  left  them,  could  hardly 
see  to  the  end  of  it,  and  instead  of  having 
only  the  four  plain  walls,  a  pulpit,  and  a 
little  gallery  for  the  choir,  here  were  pillars 
upon  pillars,  galleries  above  galleries, 
pulpits  everywhere. 

"  Pictures — real  live  pictures  !"  These 
were  Butterfly's  first  words,  catching  hold 
of  Guy's  arm  as  she  spoke. 

"  Yes,  about  as  live  as  pictures  ever 
are,"  said  Hal,  laughing.  "  Some  of  these 
are  very  fine.  Look  there,  now.  There 
is  one  of  Jesus  walking  on  the  water  :  or 
no,  I  don't  know  what  they  are  about,  but 
they  are  all  on  sacred  subjects.  Mr.  Niles 
says  some  are  copies  of  the  great  masters. 
We  will  take  them  deliberately  and  do  it 
up  well.*' 

fi  Do  it  up  how  T*  asked  Butterfly. 


216  Trip  to  Montreal, 


"  That  means,  see  it  thoroughly,"  said 
vjruy.  "  My  father  says  that  if  a  thing  is 
worth  seeing  at  all,  it  is  worth  seeing 
well." 

"  So  does  Mr.  Niles,  and  he  makes  me, 
too.  Now,  come  on.  They  are  having 
mass  at  the  other  end  of  the  cathedral. 
Did  you  ever  go  to  mass?" 

"  No,"  said  both  children  together. 

"  We  will  go  up  there,  then,  and  see  the 
rest  afterwards,"  said  Hal.  "  Never  mind 
the  people  we  pass.  They  are  saying 
their  prayers,  but  we  shall  not  disturb 
them  ;  they  look  up,  and  go  on  just  the 
same."  So  Hal  led  the  way  through  the 
centre  of  the  cathedral,  the  others  follow- 
ing; Butterfly  meaning  to  walk  on  her 
toes  and  make  no  noise,  but  forgetting  it 
every  other  step,  in  her  interest,  and  id  thfl 


Hal  acts  as  Chaperon.  217 


end  making  quite  as  much  as  either  of 
the  boys. 

Many  of  the  kneeling  people  looked 
up,  bowed,  and  smiled  as  the  pretty  child 
stole  by  them,  but  did  not  stop  their 
prayers.  To  one  old  woman  who  bade 
her  "  good-morning  "  in  French  in  between 
the  words  of  her  "  Ave,"  Butterfly,  sup- 
posing she  was  asking  her  a  question, 
stopped,  and  said  "Ma'am?"  but  the 
woman  only  smiled,  and  held  out  her 
hand 

"  She  wants  something,"  said  Butterfly, 
whispering  to  Hal. 

"Yes,  they  all  do.  You  will  have  as 
many  hands  held  out  as  you  meet  beggars 
in   Montreal.     The   city  is  full  of  them." 

"  Beggars !"     said     Butterfly,    turning 


218  Triv  to  Montreal. 


round  and  looking  at  the  woman.  "  She 
is  in  church." 

"  That  don't  matter.  They  beg  pray- 
ing, and  eating,  and  drinking,  waking  and 
sleeping,  I  believe.  It's  nothing  but  beg, 
beg,  beg." 

"  Poor  things  !"  said  Butterfly. 

"  Lazy  things,"  said  Hal. 

"  Are  they?"  asked  Butterfly. 

"  Yes ;  there  is  work  enough  everywhere 
to  support  everybody  who  is  not  sick,  my 
father  says,"  added  Guy. 

The  children  might  have  occupied  them- 
selves some  time  longer,  discussing  this 
somewhat  difficult  question  of  pauperism, 
if  Butterfly  had  not  at  that  moment 
caught  sight  of  a  priest  swinging  a  censer. 

"  0  dear,  Guy,  look !  That  man  dressed 
so  queer  swings  something;  and  do  see. 


Hal  acts  as  Chaperon.  219 


the  people  bow  and  courtesy.  What 
for?" 

"  That  is  part  of  the  Catholic  worship," 
said  Hal.  "  Now  watch  them.  We  will 
sit  down  here." 

So  the  children  seated  themselves  near 
the  part  of  the  church  where  the  services 
were  proceeding,  and  Butterfly,  who  had 
never  been  within  a  church  of  this  kind 
before,  was  very  much  interested  in  all 
that  was  done. 

She,  of  course,  was  too  young  to  under- 
stand what  theologians  might  condemn. 
She  saw  and  heard  what  was  passing,  and 
nothing  more. 

After  the  mass  was  ended  the  great 
organ  ri  anottier  part  of  the  church  began 
to  plr.y,  d\v\  they  hurried  to  the  place 
whsre    ;t  vss ;    Butterfly  pulling   Guy's 


223  Trip  to  Montreal. 


sleeve  to  have  him  look  at  this,  that,  and 
the  other  tiling,  all  the  way. 

I  don't  think  the  child  carried  home  to 
her  aunts,  after  a  long  morning  spent  in 
seeing,  any  very  distinct  account  of  what 
she  saw ;  but  she  did  remember,  in  this 
noted  cathedral  of  Notre  Dame,  the  pil- 
lars, the  pictures,  the  little  rooms  set 
apart  for  the  confessional,  and,  more  than 
anything  else,  the  size  and  solemn  still- 
ness, which  seemed  to  her  almost  like 
separate  things. 

After  seeing  the  interior  of  the  church, 
Hal  led  the  way  into  the  tower  of  the 
cathedral;  and  Butterfly  found  herself 
climbing  up,  stair  after  stair,  until,  as  she 
told  Guy,  she  expected  to  come  out  among 
the  stars ;  but  she  was  only  above  the  city 
of  Montreal,  where  she  could  see  not  only 


Hal  acts  as  Chaperon.  221 


the  whole  city,  but  much  of  the  surround- 
ing country. 

"That  is  worth  coming  to  see,"  said 
Guy,  with  admiration.  "  I  thank  you 
very  much,  Hal.  When  you  come  to 
New  York,  I  shall  be  glad  to  show  you 
our  best,  though  for  a  view  I  do  not  think 
we  have  anything  to  equal  this." 

"  Then  we  will  end  our  sight-seeing 
to-day,"  said  Hal,  "or  rather, this  morning. 
After  dinner,  if  you  would  like.  I  will  come 
with  my  dog-cart,  and  drive  you  round  the 
mountain.  That  is  the  drive  of  all  others 
in  Montreal.  Back  to  the  St.  Lawrence 
Hall,  now,  John !" 

So  the  black  horses  trotted  in  their 
stately  way  once  more  to  the  hotel,  and 
the    first    person    Butterfly   saw   as    the 


222 


Trip  to  Montreal. 


carriage  stopped  was  Aunt  Bessie,  looking 
out  of  the  parlor  window  in  search  of  her. 
"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  back,"  said  Aunt 
Bessie,  smiling  and  nodding. 


^eg 


i^e*- 


XII. 


GOOD-BY. 


1FOEE  the  hotel  dinner  was 
through,  Hal  made  his  appear- 
ance in  his  dog-cart  at  the  door. 
Butterfly  had  expected  to  see  a  carriage 
similar  to  the  one  Charlie  had  described 
as  being  a  present  to  him  from  Marie's 
father ;  but  to  her  surprise,  here  was  only 
a  small  wagon,  with  two  bay  ponies  har- 
nessed into  it. 

"Oh,  how  beautiful!"  she  exclaimed, 
stopping  on  the  steps  and  clapping  her 
hands,  much  to  the  amusement  of  the 
lookers-on.     "  A  real  live  dog-cart,  drawn 

(223) 


224  Trip  to  Montreal. 


by  ponies  ;  and  " — catching  sight  for  the 
first  time  of  a  little  girl  seated  demurely 
on  the  back  seat — "and  Margaret  too!" 

One  bound  down  the  remainder  of  the 
steps,  and  Butterfly  was  clambering  into 
the  cart,  with  no  other  idea  but  the  one 
of  kissing  Margaret  as  soon  as  she  could. 

The  boys  laughed,  so  did  the  man  who 
stood  at  the  head  of  the  horses.  Margaret 
heard  them,  but  I  question  whether 
Butterfly  did,  or  would  have  cared  if  she 
had. 

A  very  merry-looking  carriage-full  they 
made.  As  they  drove  down  the  street 
many  turned  to  admire  the  ponies  and 
cart,  the  four  happy  children,  and  the  two 
servants  on  horseback — one,  Hal's  man; 
and  the  other,  the  footman  in  the  green 


Good-by.  225 


coat  and  knee-breeches,  whose  looks  had 
so  much  amused  Butterfly. 

The  ride  around  the  mountain  was  a 
fine  one.  Hal  and  Margaret  knew  every- 
thing there  was  to  be  seen.  I  should  like 
to  take  my  young  readers  there  also,  but 
our  story  is  now  as  long  as  it  should  be, 
and  so  I  must  pass  over  this  and  many 
other  objects  of  interest  which  the  whole 
party  visited,  to  a  nunnery  where  children 
without  any  fathers  or  mothers  are  taken 
and  brought  up  in  the  Catholic  religion. 

"When  Butterfly  was  told  they  were  to 

go  to  a  nunnery,  Aunt  Bessie  explained 

to  her  that  the  nuns  did  not  dress  as  other 

people  do,  but  put  themselves  into  straight 

black  dresses  with  little  tight  sleeves,  and 

a  white    neckerchief    pinned    over    the 

waist  of    their  dresses.    Then  they  had 
15 


226  Trip  to  Montreal 


their  hair  cut  off,  and  wore  an  odd  cap 
with  a  big  crown  and  a  deep,  white  frill. 
In  the  picture  Butterfly  once  saw  of  a 
nun  she  had  her  hands  crossed  over  her 
breast,  and  a  rosary  round  her  neck,  with 
a  cross  on  the  end  of  it.  Butterfly 
thought  she  had  a  very  sad  face,  and  had 
dreaded  going  where  she  should  see  any 
living,  until  Aunt  Bessie  told  her  that  the 
sisters  who  belonged  to  the  nunnery  they 
were  now  to  visit  had  collected  a  great 
many  little  children  together  whom  it 
would  be  pleasant  to  see. 

Butterfly  remembered  the  "  Home  for 
Destitute  Children"  in  Burlington,  and 
what  a  nice  time  she  had  in  visiting  that ;  so 
she  summoned  all  her  courage,  as  she  did 
when  she  was  going  to  see  the  Indians, 
and  went  up  the  steps  and  into  the  long, 


Good-by.  227 


still  halls,  without  saying  to  any  one  how 
afraid  she  was. 

They  were  taken  directly  to  a  school- 
room not  unlike  many  others,  where  the 
boys  and  girls  old  enough  to  be  taught 
were  ranged,  the  boys  on  one  side  of  the 
room,  the  girls  on  the  other ;  and  here 
were  four  of  the  nuns  as  teachers.  One 
of  them,  as  soon  as  she  saw  Butterfly, 
came  to  her  and  took  hold  of  her  hand. 
Butterfly  trembled  a  little  as  she  did  so, 
but  when  she  found  it  was  warm  and 
tender,  "  almost,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  like 
Aunt  Bessie's,"  all  fear  left  her,  and  from 
that  moment  she  began  to  enjoy  herself. 

"The  children  look  so  oddly,"  she 
whispered  to  Guy  the  first  time  she  could 
come  near  enough  to  him  to  speak. 

"  The  boys  look  as  if  they  had  walked 


228  Trip  to  Montreal 


out  of  a  primer,"  said  Guy  ;  "  blue  home- 
spun, I  know." 

"And  the  girls,"  said  Butterfly,  "look 
like  the  picture  of  John  Rogers'  children, 
when  he  was  burned  at  the  stake,  you 
remember." 

"  Yes,"  said  Guy,  "  so  they  do.  Nine 
of  them  :  long  blue  homespun  again,  short 
waists,  short  hair,  wooden  shoes." 

"  Wooden  shoes  !"  said  Butterfly. 

"  I  should  think  so.     Look  there,  now!" 

A  little  boy  walked  across  the  room  as 
Guy  spoke,  and  his  feet  went  tramp, 
tramp,  tramp,  precisely  as  they  would 
have  done  had  his  shoes  been,  as  Guy 
said,  "  made  of  wood." 

Some  recitations  were  carried  on  while 
the  children  were  there,  but  in  French, 
and  very  drony  even  in  that  lively  Ian- 


Good-by.  229 


guage.  Guy  tliought  his  teacher  would 
have  said,  "  Wake  up,"  and  I  rather  think 
he  would. 

After  visiting  a  variety  of  other  rooms, 
kitchen,  laundry,  dining-rooms,  where  Guy 
pointed  out  the  tin  pint  cup  and  wooden 
spoon  with  which  each  child  large  enough 
to  go  to  the  table  fed  itself,  they  came  to 
the  room  where  the  babies  were ;  and  of 
this  Butterfly  will  never  be  tired  talking, 
for  there  were  fifty  babies  here,  all  dressed 
alike,  and,  as  she  said,  over  and  over 
again : 

"  All  dressed  just  like  play-servant 
dolls,  all  but  the  caps." 

These  little  creatures  of  every  age, 
from  two  days  to  as  many  years,  wore 
blue  homespun  dresses,  loose,  with  just  a 
string  around  the  throat  to  draw  them  up 


230  Trip  to  Montreal. 


close,  long  sleeves,  snug  to  the  tiny  arms, 
and  on  their  heads  little  white  cotton  caps 
without  any  frill,  just  fitted  tight  to  the 
head,  and  tied  under  the  chin  with  a  tape- 
string. 

The  nuns  in  their  odd  dresses,  holding 
the  babies  in  theirs,  made  Butterfly  a 
great  deal  of  amusement.  At  first,  she 
kept  close  by  Aunt  Bessie,  but  gradually 
she  became  used  to  the  sight,  and  soon 
was  running  around  as  freely  from  one 
baby  to  another  as  if  she  was  going  to 
learn  how  and  stay  as  nurse.  To  her 
delight,  she  found  the  babies  here  just 
like  other  little  human  children,  crowing 
and  kicking,  smiling  and  crying,  eating 
and  drinking  and  sleeping,  all  with  their 
queer  faces  under  the  queer  caps  and 
above  the  queer  dresses ;    "  and  queerest 


Good-by.  •         231 


of  all,"  said  Butterfly,  talking  the  matter 
over  afterwards  with  Guy,  "the  beds  with 
the  dots  of  white  pillows  and  the  blue 
homespun  bed-spreads,  no  bigger  than 
Susy  Millet's  baby -house  bed  at  home." 

Butterfly  would  like  to  have  spent  the 
rest  of  the  day  here.  She  whispered  the 
request  to  Aunt  Matilda,  but  her  aunt  said 
"  that  the  nunnery  was  only  open  for 
inspection  an  hour  each  day,  that  the  end 
of  the  hour  had  come,  and  they  must  go  ;" 
so  Butterfly  began  a  series  of  kisses, 
taking  the  first  baby,  and  going  down 
the  whole  left-hand  row.  I  think  she 
would  have  done  the  same  on  the  right,  if 
the  clock  had  not  finished  striking,  and 
Guy's  mother,  taking  out  her  pocket-book, 
deposited  a  present  on  the  box  placed 
upon  a  table  for  contributors'  use.     This 


232  Trip  to  Montreal 


said  to  Butterfly,  "  Now  it  is  full  time  to 
go,"  and  Guy  informed  her  her  kisses 
would  keep  until  the  next  time. 

There  were  many  other  places  to  be 
seen  in  Montreal ;  Hal  to  be  visited  in  his 
own  home,  and  Margaret  in  hers ;  excur- 
sions by  land  and  excursions  by  water. 
Every  day  and  hour  of  the  time  was  used 
up  to  its  last  moment,  and  in  the  course  of 
all  many  pleasant  things  occurred  of 
which  I  should  like  to  tell  my  readers,  but 
I  have  not  room.  I  must  pass  over  what 
remained  to  be  seen,  and  come  to  the  last 
morning,  when  so  much  was  to  be  done 
that  even  quiet  and  prompt  Aunt  Matilda 
began  to  feel  that  there  was  some  doubt 
whether  they  should  be  ready  in  time  for 
the  cars.  Hal  and  Margaret  must  be  seen 
and  told  "  good-by ;"  and  then,  you  know, 


Good-by.  233 


it  took  so  long  to  make  all  those  little 
arrangements  by  which  they  should 
"never,  never,  never  forget  each  other;" 
Guy  and  Hal  must  arrange  a  meeting  at 
Guy's  home  for  the  next  summer;  and 
Guy  must  plan  that  Bertie  and  Bennie 
should  come  at  the  same  time.  So  Guy 
said : 

"  We  shall  have  a  jolly  time,  I  tell  you 
what,  sir,  with  Tiger  and  Sprite,  and  the 
ocean.  Boys  couldn't  help  it.  Come  on 
and  see !" 

Margaret  had  brought  a  bunch  of 
English  forget-me-nots  with  their  loving- 
blue  eyes  to  Butterfly,  and  had  let  the 
flowers  speak  the  words  first  for  her ;  and 
Butterfly  had  given  Margaret  one  of  her 
golden  curls,  tied  together  with  a  blue 
ribbon,  and  laid  on  a  sheet  of  white  paper, 


234  Trip  to  Montreal. 


with  "  Forever  "  written  in  her  best  hand- 
writing in  the  circle  within  the  curl. 
Then  she  had  kissed  it  as  she  gave  it  to 
her.  Margaret  had  kissed  the  same  spot 
afterwards,  and  so  the  little  girls  were 
never  to  forget,  and  to  be  friends  forever. 

This  was  the  last  of  Butterfly's  sight- 
seeing for  the  present.  For  one  day  and 
one  day  only  she  would  travel  with  Guy 
on  her  way  to  Frostland,  and  then — 
Butterfly  felt  the  tears  coming  into  her 
eyes  every  time  she  thought  of  the  sep- 
aration. I  dare  say  she  wrould  have 
minded  leaving  Montreal  and  Hal  and 
Margaret  a  great  deal  more  if  this  part- 
ing had  not  been  right  before  her. 

When  Montreal  was  left  behind  and 
they  were  coming  back  to  the  United 
States   as  fast   as  the   cars  could  carry 


Good-by.  235 


them,  Butterfly  could  think  or  speak  of 
nothing  but  her  misery  at  leaving  Guy; 
and  as  for  Guy,  though  he  tried  to  whistle 
and  hum,  buy  papers  and  read  a  line  here 
and  there,  buy  candy,  and  pears,  and  very 
green  apples,  nothing  would  suffice.  Big 
boy  and  manly  as  he  was,  leaving  Butter- 
fly, not  to  see  her  on  the  next  morning,  or 
the  next,  or  the  next,  was  too  much  for 
him.  Every  now  and  then  something 
came  between  him  and  the  landscape, 
something  between  him  and  the  pretty 
face  he  had  learned  to  love  so  well,  some- 
thing that  needed  brushing  out  of  his  eyes, 
and  of  which  he  felt  very  much  ashamed, 
only  all  the  shame  did  not  help  him  in  the 
least. 

There  had  never  been  a  ride  when  he 
and  Butterfly  said  so  little.     I  am  sure  it 


236  Trip  to  Montreal. 


was  well  it  was  no  longer,  for  every  mile 
only  added  to  their  trouble ;  and  when  the 
conductor  called  out  at  last,  "  Frostland 
station!"  Guy  was  glad  of  the  excuse 
given  him  by  the  bustle  of  departure  of 
hiding  his  face  away  behind  the  pile  of 
bags  and  shawls  which  he  politely  carried 
out  for  the  aunts  upon  the  platform  ;  and 
when  the  bell  rang,  and  the  whistle 
sounded,  and  he  knew  he  must  go,  he  had 
no  choice  but  to  leap  back  again,  call  out, 
"  Remember  next  summer  at  the  beach  !" 
and  wave  his  hat  as  long  as  the  figure  of 
the  little  girl,  with  her  blue  eyes  and  her 
sweet,  loving  face,  was  to  be  seen. 

As  for  Butterfly,  I  think  her  mother  was 
surprised  and  grieved,  after  her  long  sepa- 
ration from  her  child,  to  have  cheeks  all 


Good-by. 


237 


wet  with  tears  to  kiss,  and  to  hear  among 
the  very  first  things  : 

"  Oh,  mamma,  if  you  please,  we  are  all 
going  to  the  seaside  together  next  sum- 
mer.    May  we,  say,  please,  may  we  go  ?" 


